Surrender
by Eridala
Summary: After the Battle of Geonosis, Anakin and Padmé return to their separate lives only to find that they must make a choice which will change both of their futures. Completed!
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: _Star Wars_ is the property of George Lucas and Lucasfilm. I mean no infringement and make no profit.

A/N: A million billion thanks to my lovely beta Alicia, who is so good that she color-codes her comments. Feel free to be jealous. Thanks also to Marten and the Comstocks, who gave suggestions all those many moons ago when this story was begun. Here's hoping that my formatting issues are now fixed...

_**Surrender**_

_Ask me no more: thy fate and mine are seal'd;  
I strove against the stream and all in vain:  
Let the great river take me to the main:  
No more, dear love, for at a touch I yield;  
Ask me no more.  
-Alfred, Lord Tennyson_

_Chapter One: Republic Cruiser_

It was dark, and there was pain. All she was aware of was pain. A fire licked at her back and burned through her body. Where had the fire come from, why was it burning her so? She couldn't breathe. Everything was dark.

Padmé Amidala opened her eyes to the harsh glare of white lights on metallic walls. She was on a ship. For a moment, as her mind cleared, she wondered whether she was on her way to Naboo or Coruscant.

Comprehension came in a rush. She remembered the arena and the battle, although the whole thing was a frantic blur of sand and blasters and the flashing of lightsabers. The only truly clear image that came to her was Anakin, standing exhausted in Dooku's hangar, his arm severed.

She remembered that she had held him tightly, desperately. There had been others there watching, but in that moment she hadn't thought to care. Later, while boarding the ship-- a Republic Cruiser, she thought-- Mace Windu had pulled her away from Anakin, saying that her being in the way wouldn't do either of them any good...

And where was Anakin now?

Padmé tried to sit up and gasped as the pain shot through her. The nexu, with its claws and teeth that would haunt her nightmares-- the blasted nexu had scratched her across the back, that was why it burned like fire. Then she had fallen out of that shuttle over the Geonosian desert-- for the first time she wondered how long she had lain there in the sand. Surely not more than a few minutes...

At the time, she hadn't even noticed the pain. She hadn't allowed herself to feel it. There had been more important things to attend to, far more important than she was. But now the rush of battle was over, and there was nothing to distract her. Now she was bandaged and sore, and the slightest wrong movement felt like the stab of knives. Clenching her teeth, she had begun to edge out of her bed when a healer, a dark-skinned female Jedi, came in.

"Hello, Senator." The healer had a kind, soft voice, and introduced herself as Jedi Knight Stass Allie. Padmé felt sure she had seen her before.

"How long have I been asleep?" She hadn't wanted to sleep and hadn't thought that she could, but she'd been so exhausted.

"We left Geonosis about an hour ago, and will reach Coruscant in a few more." Stass Allie sighed. "You're very lucky, Senator. Your worst wounds are the gashes across your back. Those will heal, but they'll leave scars, I'm afraid."

"Thank you," Padmé responded politely, although she truthfully did not care and her toleration for polite conversation was rapidly wearing thin. There was only one question she wanted the answer to, only one question she was afraid to ask. "Anakin Skywalker... Is Anakin Skywalker all right?"

The smile faded from Allie's face, but she nodded. "He should recover." Padmé let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding, but if the healer noticed, she didn't comment. "He'll receive a prosthetic arm on Coruscant."

"And Master Obi-Wan Kenobi?"

"Recovering as well." The healer hesitated. "They battled Count Dooku himself. It's amazing they survived." She stopped abruptly, unable to say more.

"How many Jedi... fell?" Padmé asked.

"So many... They aren't sure. Far more than half..."

The Jedi bent her head in a way that suddenly made Padmé recall meeting, in the aftermath of the Battle of Naboo, with people who had lost their families in the blockade. This woman was like that now. The Jedi Order was her family, probably the only family she had ever known. She had been seeing to all the wounded since departure, and the job was taking its toll. The battle had been so devastating, and there had been so few at the end. Padmé reached out to her and touched her arm.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, wishing she could say more. Stass Allie nodded, grateful for the Senator's understanding, and resumed her composure.

"Master Yoda wished to speak with you when you awoke. He should be in shortly."

Padmé bit her lip in frustration. She had hoped to search for Anakin immediately, if only to see him, to touch him. Then there was the fact that when the ship arrived at Coruscant she would have to inform the Senate that they were at war and somehow explain her own participation in the first battle alongside an army whose very creation she had fervently opposed-- a _clone_ army, she recalled with a wince, whose creation must have actually begun long ago... and all she could think of was Anakin.

Yes, that was what frustrated her most. The only thing that seemed to truly matter in all this chaos was the young Jedi who had come into her life and suddenly changed it. And now he was alone, and suffering, and the only thing that made sense was to go to him and hold him and never leave. A part of Padmé told her that this was not rational thought, that nothing had changed since she'd refused to hear Anakin's pleas-- had it really been only days ago?-- but this was not true. In the instant she had told Anakin how she loved him, everything had changed. She groaned, watching the situation wheel giddily out of her control.

At this moment Master Yoda hobbled into the room. He looked worn, more troubled and weary than Padmé had ever seen him.

"Master Yoda." Her formal tone felt strange under the rather undignified circumstances; she had been given a spare Jedi undertunic to wear, and her hair had half fallen down. She must have looked ridiculous. "Your presence is an honor."

"Recovering well, are you, Senator?" the Master asked.

"Yes, thank you. But I would like to see Jedi Skywalker as soon as possible."

Yoda sighed, shaking his head. "Not at this time, I think."

There was something in his tone Padmé couldn't quite identify that put her on edge.

"Why? Is something wrong?"

"Meditate, he should," Yoda explained, "and rest."

"I wouldn't keep him long." She paused, overriding her emotional turmoil in favor of a logical appeal. "He saved my life. I believe I owe him my thanks, at least."

"Your life would not have been in such danger, if brought you to Geonosis, he had not."

"He didn't bring me there. I would have come with or without his protection." Her voice dropped as a feeling of guilt swept over her. "This was my fault."

Master Yoda appeared to accept this as truth. "Responsibility for Skywalker's choices, you cannot claim. Nevertheless, allow him to see you, we cannot."

Cannot _allow_ it? Padmé bit back a retort she might regret. Yoda looked up at her, knowing she would have caught the change of phrase and waiting for a reaction. During the ensuing pause, Padmé had the unnerving feeling that the little green Jedi Master was somehow reading her thoughts.

"You're forbidding him to see me?" she asked finally, turning her eyes away. "May I ask why?"

"Emotional, young Skywalker can be. Easily conflicted."

"I have never intended to cause him conflict." If anything, he had caused _her_ conflict during the past days on Naboo and Tatooine. But Master Yoda could not possibly know of that, so why this separation?

"Hmm." Yoda looked askance at her. "Typical among the Naboo, is it, to greet a Jedi with such an embrace?"

So _that_ was the cause of all this. Padmé felt herself blush. Much to her dismay, her response came out sounding flustered.

"That was a very... I was emotional. I'm sorry if... I assure you, Master Yoda, Anakin and I are friends. Nothing more."

Again that penetrating gaze, searching into her very soul.

"Strong feelings I sense in you, Padmé."

Before she could think of another word to say, he had gone.

After another hour, the confinement of the small room had begun to seem like a punishment. Which, she supposed, it was. The Masters of the Jedi Order now apparently thought her a dangerous woman wont to compromise the morality of Jedi padawans. That was a problem that could be dealt with later. For now, she simply needed to see Anakin. It was as if an intangible but powerful force was drawing her to him. Once the ship docked on Coruscant they would be torn away from each other-- she to her duties in the Senate, he to his with the Jedi-- who knew when they would be this close to one another again?

If they would be this close to one another again.

It was a risk she was in no way interested in taking. She told Stass Allie that she only wanted to walk around, and was given reluctant permission. Ignoring the pain which came with every step, Padmé moved into the depths of the huge Republic Cruiser. The trick now would be to find Anakin before a Jedi who was aware of the situation found her and asked what she was doing, probably politely escorting her back to her room as she invented an explanation.

The corridors all looked the same, and most were eerily silent. Padmé could not begin to guess where she was or which room to go to. After a few moments of aimless wandering, hopelessly lost and seconds away from sitting down on the floor and waiting for someone, however unpleasant, to discover her, she found a friend. A small astromech droid was barreling down the hallway in her direction, squealing wildly.

"Artoo?" she smiled, kneeling down to level herself with R2-D2's domed head. "How did you get here? I thought you were going to stay on the ship." The droid whistled cheerfully. Padmé shook her head, realizing now that she should have known better. She knew this little droid well enough to know that he would never have stayed put. Somewhat like herself in similar situations. "Well, I'm glad you didn't. Did you bring Threepio with you?" He beeped an affirmative.

So, instead of being left in the Naboo yacht on Geonosis where they would probably have been scrapped, the two droids had made it through the battle and were currently roaming around on a Republic Cruiser...

Padmé hesitated, glancing down the corridor. She lowered her voice. "Do you know where Anakin is?" Artoo seemed happy that she'd asked.

Padmé followed the droid to a door not far away, where he whistled softly and backed away, allowing her to approach. She stopped before the door. Maybe it would be better if she went back to her room now and left him alone. But her heart was screaming out, _Anakin is in here_, and she didn't think she could bear the pain of ignoring it again. She pressed the button that would open the doorway and stepped inside.

The room was dim. Anakin sat in his bed, staring into space, his face a grim mask. The wrenching pain of his tortured thoughts and emotions where compressed, almost tangible, in the room's dark atmosphere. Padmé found herself pressed up against the wall, unwilling to break the deep silence. Quietly, she found the mechanism which closed the door behind her.

Anakin looked up at the sound of the door whirring shut. His features immediately softened as his eyes locked with Padmé's across the room. For a moment they regarded one another in a silence that neither of them knew how to break. Then Padmé came forward and knelt beside the bed, choking out, "Ani..."

"Padmé," he breathed, reaching out to touch her hand as though he wasn't quite sure she was real. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine." She almost wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the question. Her eyes traveled from his face to his right arm, which was covered with a sheet. She gently raised her hand to move it aside, "Let me see."

"No!" He jerked away with a sudden violence that was startling. Padmé looked at him in surprise.

"Anakin." Her tone was firm. He turned his head as she pulled the sheet away and drew in a deep breath, not quite a gasp. The arm had been severed just below the elbow, and above the bandage at the end she could see bruises and burns. She had expected it to be no better than this and had been prepared for much worse, but still she felt tears stinging her eyes. _I will not cry_, she told herself. _Not here. Not now._ "Oh, Ani..."

"The pain's not too bad now," Anakin said. He was lying through his teeth.

"I shouldn't have made you come. This wouldn't have happened..." Padmé didn't want to look at the padawan's face, but she saw him shake his head.

"No. Obi-Wan would've died." He gave a small smile. "And we wouldn't... You would never have kissed me." He was right. She probably wouldn't have. Padmé looked into Anakin's eyes and was somehow surprised to see that he, too, was fighting back tears. "I love you, Padmé," he said. He hadn't said those words before, he hadn't needed to, but hearing them made Padmé go warm all over. "I needed to tell you because... we may never be with one another again."

"Anakin..."

He stopped her. "At Geonosis... in the arena... you said you loved me. That was enough. I know what the circumstances were... and I don't expect anything more. But that moment... that meant everything. That's all."

"Ani." Padmé took his hand and held it tightly and kissed it. "Nothing's changed since then, not for me. I love you. It wasn't easy to say, Anakin, but I meant every word. And I won't take it back now... because it's true."

Anakin looked at her, looked into her eyes, as though he couldn't believe the words until he saw them there. His face lit up the same way it had at the entrance to the arena, when both of them had thought they were going to die and hadn't been afraid. But as quickly as that light came, it faded, and Anakin's eyes traveled down to the severed end of his arm. Padmé followed his gaze, wondering if he really thought that could matter to her.

"Even after..." He couldn't even finish the question.

"I love _you_. All of you. And that's not going to change." She kept her face somber as she added, "So you'd better get used to it."

Then she kissed him, elated at the freedom and passion that she had found somewhere within herself, almost overwhelmed by the love for Anakin that she no longer wished to escape. Anakin's hand moved to her back, pressing against the place where bandages covered the deep gashes from the nexu. The sudden stab of pain made her pull back with a sharp intake of breath. Anakin's brow furrowed in concern.

"Just scratches, courtesy of an angry nexu," she said lightly, shaking her head. "They'll heal."

He kissed her again, much more softly now. She wasn't sure how long she sat there beside his bed, looking into his eyes as he looked into hers, forgetting everything but the fact that they loved each other. Padmé didn't want that time to stop, but knew with increasing certainty that it would, and that they would then have to face a galaxy in turmoil and a question that neither of them knew how to answer.

"Anakin... what happens now?"

Anakin sighed, as if coming back from a long way away. "I don't know. I wish I knew."

So they had reached an impasse, so close to having each other yet just as close to being wrenched apart. Padmé could feel her hand still wrapped tightly in Anakin's, and she thought that no pain she could endure would be worse than taking it back and walking away.

"We need more time," she said, half to herself.

"There must be some way..." Anakin's eyes were trained on the door, listening as voices passed by. "If I could escort you back to Naboo--"

"They'd never let you."

"Who wouldn't?" the young Jedi asked indignantly.

"The Jedi Council. I had a talk with Master Yoda." Anakin nodded in understanding. "They're not too pleased with me right now. They seem to hold suspicions that I'm some kind of dangerous Jedi seductress."

"Yes, that's you." Anakin smiled. "And they don't exactly know you've come here, do they?"

"Not exactly." Padmé returned his smile. She felt like a little girl disobeying her parents. She wanted to laugh, but was afraid she would end up crying.

"Leave the Jedi to me." At her inquisitive look, he added, "I've learned a lot about diplomacy in the last few days."

"But Ani, if they won't allow it..." She squeezed his hand tighter. As afraid as she had been to love Anakin yesterday, she was now afraid that she would lose him, and never see him again.

"It's our only chance. We can't talk here." Anakin suddenly looked tired, his eyes once again moving to the place where his right hand should have been.

"I know," Padmé whispered. "You should rest."

He nodded, and kissed her. "No matter what," he murmured before letting her go, "this is not goodbye."

She left quietly, feeling him watching her until the door closed behind her.

Artoo was waiting in the hallway. He gave what sounded like a sympathetic whistle as they turned back in the direction of her own room. After only a few steps C-3PO appeared from behind.

"There you are, you miserable little machine! What were you thinking, leaving me alone like that? Oh!" He noticed Padmé for the first time. "Hello, Miss Padmé."

"Anakin's resting. You can come with me, Threepio," she said wearily, deciding that the droids' company would at least keep her mind off the way her heart was aching.

Threepio and Padmé followed Artoo down a corridor that would lead them to their destination. Approaching from the opposite direction Padmé saw a familiar figure in Jedi robes. Obi-Wan Kenobi. He stopped before her and nodded a greeting.

"Senator. It's good to see that you are up and about." His voice was courteous, but in his eyes she saw none of the familiarity and warmth of a few days before.

"Thank you, Master Kenobi," Padmé responded, automatically switching her bearing to that of Senator Amidala. "I must say the same of you. I was just trying to locate these droids of mine."

Obi-Wan's glance flashed to the two droids, then back to her face, searching. She had been well trained in keeping a neutral countenance under that sort of gaze. Finally he nodded again and said, "I'm glad you were successful. However, I suggest you return to your room now, M'lady."

"Yes, that was my intention. Good evening, Master Kenobi."

He bowed stiffly and walked past. As unhappy as the Council apparently was, Padmé had been prepared for Obi-Wan to despise her, but she felt a sadness as she watched him go. She felt that she had lost the promise of a valuable friend and gained, if not an enemy, then one more person to whom she must always play the civil and well-mannered Senator.

How much more would she have to sacrifice for this new love?

It didn't matter. She had no desire to go back now.

* * *

Anakin couldn't rest. His feelings, violent and confused, flashed from love for Padmé to hatred for Dooku at lightning speed. Only Padmé's presence had soothed him, just as it always did, and now she was gone. 

Still, she had come to him. Until the moment she had stepped into his room and told him that she loved him, he hadn't known if he would ever see her again.

But his hand... he stared again at his severed arm as though willing it to become whole again. _That _he could never have back, nor his mother, nor his innocence. All of that was gone.

As these dark thoughts swirled through Anakin's mind, the door once again whirred and slid open. He looked up into the solemn face of his Master, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Obi-Wan said nothing, and Anakin responded with a defiant, angry silence. He wasn't sure why he was angry with his Master; perhaps he was simply angry with everyone. Or nearly everyone.

"How are you, Anakin?" Obi-Wan asked at last. He looked tired, Anakin thought, and concerned. He felt his anger gently melt away. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I've lost an arm, Master."

"You _will_ recover," the Jedi said firmly, looking Anakin in the eyes to address his greatest fear. "I promise you, you don't need to worry about that. You'll have a prosthetic that you'll learn to use just as well as your own."

"Good," Anakin replied sullenly, and a little relieved. "Because when I find Count Dooku again, I would very much like to kill him."

"Control your anger, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, disapproval in his voice.

Anakin nearly exploded into rage. How _dare_ he say that now, as Anakin lay there with one arm gone? What could he possibly know of anger? How could Obi-Wan know about his mother and the Sandpeople, about the terrible rage and the tremendous _power?_ Instead, clenching his teeth, he said, "I'll try, Master."

"Good." Obi-Wan seemed as willing to drop that topic as Anakin was. "Is there anything you need, for now? We'll be on Coruscant in a few hours."

"No, Master."

Obi-Wan looked down and picked at the bedcoverings. He cleared his throat. "Although you should have listened to me and done as you were instructed..." he hesitated, "I want you to know that I was very impressed with your fighting today. Or yesterday. Blast, I don't know what time it is."

Anakin couldn't help but smile, partly from gratification and partly at his Master's evident discomfort. "Thank you, Master."

"No, I should thank you. It seems a time or two, in all the confusion, you may have inadvertently saved my life."

"I believe you may have saved mine, also."

"Well, we'll call it even, then."

"Yes, Master."

There was a pause. Finally Obi-Wan looked up again.

"I have a question," he said slowly, "that has been bothering me. I'm going to ask it, and whatever you tell me, I promise to save the lecture for later."

"All right." Anakin had some idea of what was coming. He was either going to ask if he was involved with Padmé or...

"What in blazes were you doing on Tatooine?"

Or that.

"I wasn't disobeying my mandate. Padmé was with me."

"That almost makes it worse. That planet is dangerous."

"This is beginning to sound a bit like lecturing."

Obi-Wan sighed in exasperation. "Did you go to see your mother?"

The atmosphere in the room abruptly changed as Anakin tensed. "She was suffering. I could feel her pain." He felt tears beginning to gather in his eyes, and could suddenly barely speak. "If I'd gone sooner, maybe..." He didn't want to talk about this, not now, not anymore. "... maybe she'd still be alive."

Obi-Wan's eyes conveyed the surprise his face did not. "How did it happen?" he quietly asked.

"The Tusken Raiders took her. They tied her and beat her..." A well of hot anger began to churn in the pit of his stomach. "I went to save her, but I couldn't..." He couldn't go on. He knew he was crying now, and the last thing he wanted to do was cry in front of his Master. But Obi-Wan put a hand on his shoulder, surprisingly gentle.

"I'm sorry, Anakin. I know how much she meant to you."

Anakin nodded through his tears, thinking, _No, you don't. You can never know._ But he was thankful for his Master's words of comfort. He needed them.

After a moment of silence, Obi-Wan said, "You can take as much time as you need. To recover," he added, nodding to Anakin's arm. "I'll see that the Jedi Council allows it."

"Thank you." Ready or not, Anakin realized, this was his chance. "Master, I'd... I'd like to spend that time on Naboo."

"What?" Obi-Wan turned sharply to Anakin, who took a breath and plunged on.

"I mean in the interest of finishing my assignment. I think I should escort Padmé back to Naboo after her business on Coruscant is done."

"Anakin, has _Senator Amidala_," he put a cool emphasis on the name, "been to see you?"

"No, Master." Anakin continued with his argument so as not to let Obi-Wan catch the lie. "It's just that it was my first assignment and I think I should be allowed to finish it. Afterward I thought I'd stay on the planet because it's beautiful, and feels more like home to me than Tatooine ever did. I think I could heal there, Master."

Obi-Wan looked at him, calculating, for a long time. When Anakin's gaze finally wavered he sighed, turned away from the padawan, and stood up, hands behind his back, staring at the wall.

"It is true that Nute Gunray must not be pleased at the Senator's escape."

Anakin waited for something further, but nothing came. "Are you saying I have permission? I can go?"

"I am _saying_," Obi-Wan turned back to him, "that your charge may still be in danger and that if you feel up to it, it is your obligation to complete your assignment and accompany her back to her home planet. After that, take some time. Say goodbye. And that will be _all_." The words held a very definite meaning. "Do you understand me, Anakin?"

"Yes, Master." Anakin tried to sound properly abashed, but his heart was soaring. He didn't have to appeal to the Jedi Council or sneak away. He didn't even have to explain. He was allowed to go to Naboo. For some reason-- pity or guilt or both-- Obi-Wan was letting him go.

"Now..." The Jedi Knight seemed to be choking back the urge to warn him against doing anything stupid. "get some rest."

He stood and turned for the door. Anakin was suddenly seized by the urge to stop him and tell him everything-- what had happened after his mother died, the horrible loss of control... He had tried to explain it to Padmé, but only another Jedi could really understand. He called out, "Master!"

"Yes, Anakin?" Obi-Wan turned back, looking as though he had half expected to be stopped.

"Nothing," he mumbled. "I... nothing."

"Is there something else you wanted to tell me?"

_He's nervous about Padmé,_ Anakin realized_. He's dying to ask, but he won't now._ And then another realization: _If he knew everything, it would only be worse. He'd keep me on Coruscant, watch me every minute..._

"No. Just... if you see a confused protocol droid wandering around... That's mine." 

Obi-Wan's already troubled expression darkened, but he nodded and left Anakin alone again.

He couldn't tell Obi-Wan about the slaughter at the Tusken camp. He didn't want to face his Master's disapproval or the pain that would come from reliving it. He didn't want to go through that again. But most of all... he couldn't tell Obi-Wan because Obi-Wan _would understand_. It wasn't like telling Padmé, because Obi-Wan would realize what Anakin knew-- that he had touched the dark side, felt its power more strong and consuming and _real_ than anything he had ever known... that it frightened him. And it fascinated him.

But knowing that he held a secret from his Master made him feel stronger.

If he could keep such secrets... perhaps he would not have to say another goodbye.


	2. Coruscant I

Disclaimer: _Star Wars_ is the property of George Lucas and Lucasfilm. I mean no infringement and make no profit.

A/N: Thanks again to Alicia, the Best Beta Ever. Now, the Verandah of Forbidden Love makes its debut in...

_**Chapter Two: Coruscant I**_

When Padmé stepped off the Cruiser on Coruscant, she was immediately swept into the welcoming embrace of her handmaiden, Dormé. The landing platform, well-lit in the early evening darkness, was crowded mainly with Jedi, so Padmé, Artoo, and Threepio were easy for the Naboo security personnel to find.

"M'lady! Thank goodness!" Dormé sounded as if she was about to cry. As the handmaiden's arms tightened around her, against the carefully bandaged wounds on her back, Padmé couldn't stop herself from cringing, and Dormé pulled back abruptly. Her eyes went wide in alarm. "Are you hurt?"

"No." Dormé appeared highly skeptical. Padmé gave a weak smile and shifted her gaze to a clearly displeased Captain Typho.

"I'm not going to ask why you were off Naboo," he said. "I'm not even going to ask what you were thinking. All that matters is that you're safe now." He sounded as though he didn't quite believe it.

"Good," Padmé responded. "That should save time. I want to know where that clone army came from and how it was authorized so quickly."

Dormé and Typho exchanged glances.

"You don't know?" the handmaiden asked. Her tone sent a sudden chill down Padmé's spine.

"We'll talk on the way back to the apartment," Typho stated firmly, leading the two ladies and the droids to their waiting transport.

As she was guided away, Padmé looked back for Anakin, but she couldn't find him.

Once safely on board the transport and moving away from the platform, Dormé began to faithfully recount all that had happened in Padmé and Anakin's absence from Coruscant. The Senator found herself shaking her head in disbelief.

"Jar Jar moved to give the Chancellor emergency powers? In my name?"

"Yes, m'lady. It was the only way--"

"Without even _consulting_ me?"

"There wasn't much time. Besides," she added softly, "how would he have known where to reach you?"

Padmé opened her mouth to respond to this, but couldn't think of a thing to say. Dormé was right. She had made the decision to accompany Anakin to Tatooine spontaneously, from a personal desire to stay with him, and in doing so she had effectively abandoned her Senatorial duties. A profound exhaustion swept over her again, and she longed to simply lie down on her bed and rest until someone else-- anyone else-- had sorted out this terrible mess.

Looking back, she could remember very little of the night after that. They entered the Senate Apartment building through a side entrance to avoid the reporters crowded around the front. Dormé helped her bathe and dress in a nightgown, not even uttering a word at the sight of the wounds on her back and the bruises all over her body. After that, the young Senator gratefully sank onto her bed and was asleep within an instant.

It was late the next morning when Dormé awoke her.

"I'm sorry, m'lady, but Chancellor Palpatine has requested a meeting with you. I've already sent a message to your parents, and Captain Typho contacted Queen Jamillia, but they both want to speak with you when you have a chance. Oh, and does that rusty protocol droid belong to you, m'lady? We had to shut him off-- he kept yammering on about the battle."

Padmé groaned and blinked at the bright light streaming into her room. If it wasn't for the sudden pain that hit her the moment she moved, she could almost believe that the past week had been nothing more than a dream. Even Anakin. She found strange comfort in touching the bandages, feeling assured that the memory of Anakin's lips on hers was very, very real.

Stiffly, she arose and dressed in formal Senate attire. The ornate gown felt strange somehow, so different from what she'd worn over the past few days. She'd changed in those days, she realized suddenly. Not just her life, but her very being. She hadn't even thought about it until now, when everything around her was familiar, and something in her was different. _I've been free_, she thought. _I've been happy. I've been falling in love._ Then, _I never knew. Twenty-four years old and I never knew what it was like_.

She wanted to be with Anakin then, so much that it hurt. But she couldn't let herself think of Anakin now. She'd been thrown back into the stream of her old life and its current was moving fast. If she didn't keep up, she'd drown. So, lifting her chin and squaring her shoulders, she entered the Supreme Chancellor's office.

"Senator Amidala," Palpatine greeted her as she took a seat. "Allow me the pleasure of welcoming you back to Coruscant."

"Thank you, Chancellor." There was a pause. If he was expecting any congratulations from Padmé on his new powers or use of them, he was to be disappointed. Sensing this, he continued.

"You must have been through a terrible ordeal."

"No concern need be wasted on me, Chancellor. It's the Jedi we should be thinking of now."

"Yes. Their losses, I regret, were catastrophic," Palpatine agreed. "You, nevertheless, do warrant my concern at this time. Tell me, Senator Amidala, how precisely did you come to fall into Geonosian hands?"

The edge in his voice alerted Padmé that, rather than personal concern, the motivation behind this inquiry was purely political. She would have to be careful.

"I was with Padawan Skywalker when he received Master Kenobi's transmission to the Jedi Council."

"Indeed? And you decided that a rescue attempt would be appropriate?" The edge was more pointed now. "Tell me, Senator, how am I to explain to the Republic the presence of the leading voice speaking against military force in the Separatist crisis in the first battle of that conflict? How am I to explain the sudden appearance of a member of the Loyalist Committee on the Separatist world of Geonosis? The implications that could be drawn from this are as endless as they are potentially damaging."

"I thought that diplomatic intervention might be useful in resolving the issue without violence. Surely you cannot believe otherwise. It was clear that the Jedi would require several hours to reach Geonosis. We were less than a parsec away."

"Oh? I was not aware that Naboo was so near to Geonosis." A slip. An obvious one. _Focus, Padmé_.

"We were on Tatooine." She met his eyes defiantly. Just when, she wondered, did this become a contest of wills? And _why_ had it become so? There was no reason for the Chancellor to doubt her, much less show malice. It didn't make sense, and she hadn't expected it.

"Tatooine?" he repeated. "It was my understanding that you were to remain on Naboo."

"Anakin's mother was dying." Padmé instantly regretted that; it was too personal. As she spoke, though, she thought she saw Palpatine's eyes flash.

"Really?" the Chancellor seemed not to notice that her statement hadn't answered his question. "How unfortunate," he said quietly, preoccupied. "How very upsetting for him."

"Chancellor," Padmé cut in, "please realize that Anakin had nothing to do with my decision to help Master Kenobi. He accompanied me only as my bodyguard."

"I am aware that he took his responsibility to you very seriously. It is fortunate that he was with you."

"He saved my life," she admitted in a voice softer than she had intended. "I hold him in the very highest regard. Have no doubt of that." More forcefully, she added, "He should not be held accountable for--"

"Any errors in judgment," Palpatine supplied sharply, "which you may have made?"

"Complications which arose," she said firmly. "We were unjustly accused of espionage and convicted without a trial."

The Chancellor raised his hands in a gesture of helplessness. "What more can be expected from a planet which does not respect the laws of the Republic?"

Padmé said nothing. Abruptly the Chancellor smiled and stood.

"Very well, Senator. I understand that your motivation in this matter was purely diplomatic, and I will inform the Senate and the media accordingly. It was not I, you understand, who doubted you in this respect. It may be best, however, to subdue the fact that you were involved in the fighting, as I understand to be the case. No, you were wrongly held by the Geonosians for espionage while on a diplomatic visit and then subsequently freed by Republic forces. You understand, it is much simpler that way. With all you've been through, the last thing you need is to be accused of starting this war." He eyed her condescendingly. "And do try to be less reckless, dear child, in the future. The Republic needs you now, as do I."

There was little to say after that, and Padmé did not trust herself to maintain civility in any case. The interview was quickly over, and the Naboo Senator departed Palpatine's office. She was still fuming when she reached her apartment. _Dear child?_ And manipulating the truth to suit his purposes! He would, of course, hear none of her protests, using fear for her welfare as his defense. No, she would have to go along with it. She would have to pick her battles with the Chancellor carefully from now on, and this was one she knew she could not win.

Then, too, his words were echoing in her head: _the last thing you need is to be accused of starting this war_. Who would accuse her of such a thing? And... a little voice inside her head nagged her, would they be right?

Suddenly she noticed Threepio, deactivated in the corner, and her thoughts strayed back to Anakin again. He most likely had his prosthetic arm fitted by now and soon, very soon, she would see him again. He would take her back to Naboo. She switched the droid on, and he instantly sprang to life.

"Oh! Miss Padmé! I'm so sorry." He pointed over Padmé's shoulder to Dormé. "That insolent woman shut me down!"

Dormé rolled her eyes and glowered at the droid, who seemed to be glaring back. Glancing from one to the other, Padmé giggled, and Dormé finally broke into a smile and shook her head.

"Well! I never!" Threepio exclaimed, as a buzzer sounded at the door. Captain Typho answered it.

"M'lady," he announced," Senator Bail Organa of Alderaan is here to see you."

Her frustration quelled somewhat, but still present, Padmé turned to greet one of her strongest allies in the Senate, and one of her only colleagues who could truly be called a friend.

"Hello, Bail."

"Senator Amidala." He bowed to her formally, and she returned the gesture.

"M'lady," Dormé whispered, "may I leave you?"

"Yes, of course." The Senator nodded, and Dormé followed Captain Typho from the room.

When they were gone, Padmé turned back to Bail and smiled. "It's certainly good to see a friendly face."

"Likewise, in these trying times." A pause ensued. Padmé became aware that Bail was looking at her with an expression she couldn't quite read.

"Are you all right, Padmé?" he asked anxiously.

"Yes. I'm fine. Perfectly fine," she reassured him. Her weak smile faded. "Others... weren't so fortunate."

Bail shook his head sadly. "I can't even imagine..." he trailed off, looking at her again.

"I'm fine," she repeated. From the back of the room, she heard Artoo beep incredulously and Threepio tell him to be quiet. "Won't you sit down?"

He followed her to the couches in the center of the room and seated himself across from her. "I came to see you this morning, but your handmaiden said you were still sleeping."

"That was kind of you. Dormé didn't tell me." Padmé glanced in the direction her handmaiden had gone. "We're all a little distracted here today."

"Not just here." He sighed. "I can't believe it's come this far. Come to war."

"Neither can I," she answered quietly.

"When I heard you were on Geonosis..." He paused. "What exactly were you _doing_ there?"

She sat back with a groan. "Trying to negotiate."

"But by then it was too late for negotiation," Bail put in, shaking his head.

"I certainly wish someone had informed _me_," she spat out angrily, without even thinking. Quickly, she corrected herself. "I'm sorry. That was... uncalled for, and childish."

But Bail only laughed. "You are an oddity, Padmé Amidala. No need to apologize. It's not childish to still care about the unity of the Republic. Force knows there are few enough who do." He grew suddenly serious. "Padmé, the Loyalist Committee is meeting tomorrow with the Chancellor to reassess the situation, now that..." He shrugged helplessly.

"What time?" Padmé asked.

"What I'm trying to tell you is that you needn't come. Considering what you've been through, I'm sure everyone would understand."

"Don't be ridiculous," she replied sharply. "I'm not going to sit out the most vital meeting to date of a committee I've helped lead for a year."

"All I'm saying is that you might want to take some time before jumping back in. Get some rest."

"I am rested, Bail, and I am perfectly capable--"

"I never said you weren't," he interrupted sincerely. "I only thought I'd suggest it because I... consider you a friend, Padmé."

She took a calming breath and managed a smile. "I know, Bail. And you know I feel likewise. But no, thank you. I'm fine. And I need to prove to the committee that I'm fine and that I intend to remain active in our work."

"All right, then." Bail stood. "I must be going. I'd offer to pick up some of your paperwork, but I have a feeling you might pull a blaster on me."

"It's possible," Padmé admitted lightly. "Thank you, Bail. I'll see you tomorrow at...?"

"I'll send you the time once I know."

"Very well, then."

She escorted him to the apartment door, which opened to reveal Representative Jar Jar Binks, hand poised over the buzzer. Padmé eyed him with some surprise.

Bail nodded politely. "Representative Binks."

"Hello, Senator Organa," Jar Jar replied. "Mesa comin' to see--" His face lit up as he turned to Padmé. "Senator Padmé! Mesa so smilin' to seein' yousa okeday!" He threw himself at the Naboo Senator and wrapped her in a tight hug, causing her to yelp in pain.

"_Jar Jar!_"

He pulled back sheepishly. "Mesa sorry. Mesa sorry."

She looked over his shoulder to see a new expression of concern etched clearly on Bail Organa's face.

"It's all right," she assured them both. "Bail, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow." He bowed and exited, leaving Padmé to deal with the one being in the galaxy she perhaps least wanted to see today. It wasn't that she didn't like Jar Jar. Indeed, she'd always had a special affection for the Gungan. But even she had to admit that Jar Jar Binks was not suited for politics-- in fact, she might be among the first to admit it. In the time they'd worked together, she had often been cheered by his enthusiasm and optimism, but his clumsiness, impatience, and lack of protocol wore on her, becoming particularly irritating when she had serious work to do-- which was often, these days. What in the farthest reaches of the galaxy had persuaded him that he could decide to propose a motion altering the very nature of the Republic without her input?

"Mui mui big things been happenin' while yousa been away, m'lady!" he said. "All kindsa trouble, den mesa talkin' in front of da Senate, and pow! Wesa got an army!"

"I know, Jar Jar." He didn't seem even to notice the very definite tone she was using.

"You sayin' yousa count on mesa, and mesa doin' it!"

"Can you tell me exactly how it happened, Jar Jar?"

And so he did, concluding with, "Things lookin' bery bombad, and wesa thinkin' we need an army, or else da whole Republic gettin' squashed. Deysa wishin' you were there to talk to da Senate, and so mesa thinkin' _mesa_ do it. Den da Chancellor gettin' emergency powers." He finally became aware of her expression. "Mesa doin' da right thing, right Senator?"

She didn't know what to say. She had wanted to yell at Jar Jar, wanted to scream at him until the guards were called. She had wanted to call him an incompetent idiot and blame him for everything. But now...

Without that army, everyone in the Geonosian arena would have died. Anakin. Everyone. Without the Chancellor's executive order, there would have been no army. Without Jar Jar's motion, the Chancellor wouldn't have had the power to give that order.

But surely that power wasn't right, that army wasn't right? Surely a few more lives lost in that arena wouldn't have mattered, even if one was hers. She had been prepared to die. But Anakin... And all of the rest of the Republic, the innocent people, what sort of terror would be unleashed on them now if they didn't have that army to defend them?

If Jar Jar hadn't been speaking for her, that motion wouldn't have passed. If she hadn't campaigned so vocally against the Military Creation Act, no one would have followed it. No, she hadn't reversed her position, but had she been there, had she known the circumstances, the consequences... would she have? Would she have acted any differently than Jar Jar? She didn't know. But she did know, now, that despite her absence, even _through_ her absence, she had done this. Her actions, including her trip to Geonosis, had led up to that moment in the Senate. She had started this war.

"I... I don't know, Jar Jar," she answered at last. "But I know you did the best you could. That's all I could have asked of you, it's all any of us can do."

The Gungan grinned. "Yousa doin' okeday, eh Padmé? And da Jedi... Obi and little Ani... desa okeday, too?"

"Yes. They were both wounded, but... I'm sure you'll hear about it. I'm... just tired."

"Oh. Mesa be goin', then."

"I'll see you at the meeting tomorrow morning."

"Right. Right. Bye-bye, Senator."

"Thank you, Jar Jar."

Padmé gratefully closed the door behind him. She would have piles of paperwork to catch up on, and she'd need to contact Queen Jamillia and her family. Her mother must be having a fit over not having heard from her by now. She decided it would be wise first to ask Dormé how much had already been reported earlier or via the holonet.

Padmé walked into Dormé's quarters and stopped abruptly in the doorway, her eyes going wide. There, in the middle of the room, stood Dormé, wrapped in the arms of Captain Typho, his hand in her hair, her lips on his. Becoming aware of the Senator's presence, they broke apart abruptly. Dormé's hand flew to her mouth and she blushed deeply, while Captain Typho looked like a nerf caught in the headlights of an approaching speeder. If Padmé had not been so completely dumbfounded, she might have laughed. As it was, she could only manage to open and shut her mouth wordlessly several times before simply turning around and walking back out again.

* * *

Anakin did not remember being taken off the ship on Coruscant. He did not remember returning to the Jedi Temple. When he awoke, though, he was there, and it was light. Morning.

Something felt strange. He looked down. It was his arm-- it was metal. They'd attached the prosthetic while he slept. He lifted his new appendage to examine it more closely. It shone conspicuously golden in the light. Already he could discern its basic workings-- which wires and rods controlled what. And he knew that somewhere below its base, just below his elbow, it connected to his nerves and muscles. An extension of himself.

Yet it was so... well... _mechanical_. So distinctly not alive. This arm could not feel the Force. He had never known what it was _like_ not to sense the Force all through his body before this. Even as a small slave boy on Tatooine, he'd felt it, though he hadn't realized what it was. Indeed, he had never truly noticed its presence until now, when he knew what its absence felt like. Was _this_ how most people went through their lives? It was like being blind! Yes. Half of one arm was mechanical and blind.

Yet even the blind, he knew, learned how to read and write and play music. They developed the skills they had, learned to see without sight. He would do the same. He would work harder than he ever had, practice often, and become _better_ than he had been before. Then, one day, he would kill Dooku.

Tentatively, he tested his new hand's movement. The fingers flexed, one by one, at his silent command. Together, they opened and closed. It wasn't much; it still felt strange. But it would do.

One of the older Temple healers walked in. Anakin couldn't quite remember her name.

"Welcome home, Padawan Skywalker," she greeted him.

"Good morning," Anakin returned.

"Afternoon, actually. Your prosthetic, as you can see, was attached this morning, but we thought it best not to wake you."

Anakin sat forward, surprised. "What have I missed?" he asked. "What's happened? Where have the Separatists gone? Has anyone found Dooku? Where is Master Obi-Wan and how is--" he fumbled his words, and started again. "Has Senator Amidala returned to Naboo?" Of course, he knew she hadn't. He wanted to hear any news, though, anything involving Padmé.

"Calm down, young man. Alert is one thing, over-excited is another." Her voice was clipped and professional. "You haven't missed much. The clone army is gathering here on Coruscant. Unfortunately, the Separatist forces have scattered, and no one knows where they will convene. It seems, for a time, that all we can do is wait for them to attack again, unless we get word of their massing somewhere. There has been no sign of Count Dooku. Your Master is resting, and unless it is quite necessary, I would not recommend disturbing him. And no, from what I've heard, Senator Amidala remains here. It seems her wounds were not serious, and I heard Master Yoda mention that she fought well. The Force was with her, he said. Is that all?"

As she spoke, she had been examining his prosthetic, testing its reflex and range of motion.

"Master Yoda was here?" Anakin asked.

"Yes, earlier. How are you feeling, padawan, other than inquisitive?"

"Sore," he answered. "And hungry. My arm hurts, but less than before."

"The pain will subside over the next few days. Food will be brought to you shortly. You should be able to sleep in your own quarters tonight, if you'd like."

Anakin thought he would like that very much. It seemed that a lifetime had passed since he's last spent a night in the Temple.

As the padawan ate, the healer explained most succinctly all that had transpired in the Senate, and how Palpatine had come to have the power to create an army.

_Good for Jar Jar_, Anakin found himself thinking. _I knew he had it in him, to stand up when he was most needed_.

After the healer left, Anakin found himself alone and bored. He tried several times to meditate, but he always ended up thinking of Padmé. He'd dreamed about her last night, he realized, though he could not now remember the details of the dream. All he could remember was that she had been there, looking into his eyes with love. He tried to imagine what she was doing at that moment, but there his imagination came up short. He knew very little about what Senators did with their days. They couldn't possibly be in committee meetings _all_ the time, could they?

It was in the middle of this reflection that the healer came back in, looking rather flustered.

"Padawan Skywalker," she said, "Chancellor Palpatine is here to see you!"

Anakin's eyes widened in surprise. "He's come _here_? To see _me_?" The healer nodded. "Like _this_?" His eyes turned nervously to his new arm.

"Of course, if you're not feeling up to it, I can tell him to go away..."

"No! No, that won't be necessary. I'd be happy to see the Chancellor." Anakin was dumbfounded. He had always felt that Supreme Chancellor Palpatine had a certain fatherly fondness for him, but he'd never come to the Temple and sought him out before. It was incredible-- that the ruler of the galaxy should have such an interest in him. Yet the evidence that he did was overwhelming, especially now as he regally seated himself beside Anakin's bed.

"Congratulations on your appointment, Chancellor," the padawan was quick to state.

"Thank you, young man. Well, well, Anakin, you have proved yourself to be quite a hero."

"I have, sir?" he asked, confused. He had taken the person he was meant to be protecting into a dangerous situation, an action that in less complicated circumstances would easily have gotten him expelled. He had then failed to stop Dooku and had lost his arm in the process. None of these things, in his opinion, qualified him for hero status.

"Indeed, you have, my young friend. You fought valiantly. There are not many who possess the courage to take on a seasoned Jedi of Count Dooku's skill."

"Thank you, sir." Anakin's eyes stayed fixed on his metal arm.

"Oh," Palpatine noticed the direction of his gaze. "Of course, I realize the loss of your arm must be extremely trying for you-- to be less than whole. The use of your hand will never be the same again, I don't doubt. A terrible loss." Anakin could not meet his gaze, ashamed. "But I have no doubt that you will recover fully. After all, Anakin, I need the very best to lead my army."

The young Jedi looked up with a small, gratified smile. "Yes, sir."

"Good. Oh..." Palpatine seemed suddenly to remember something. "I am given to understand that I should offer you my condolences. I am so sorry to hear about the passing of your mother."

Anakin's eyes fell again. The Chancellor's kind words only flooded him with a renewed pain and grief. "Thank you," he responded quietly.

"The Jedi should not have kept you from her for so long." Anakin nodded wordlessly. "May I ask... how did it happen?"

"She was taken by a tribe of Tusken Raiders," he replied flatly.

"Oh, dear. It must have been dreadful. I cannot begin to imagine what you've been through." Anakin only nodded again. "And yet you continued with your mission to protect Senator Amidala, and came through on Geonosis."

"It helped," Anakin confessed, "having Padmé-- Senator Amidala there with me."

The padawan thought he saw a glimmer of understanding in the Chancellor's eyes. "I am glad of that," he said. "If I recall correctly, as a young boy you were quite taken with her."

Anakin found himself smiling again, shyly, at the chance to talk about Padmé. "Yes, sir, I was. I was very glad to spend time with her again. I've never... I've never known anyone like her."

"And, of course," Palpatine added dryly, "She has grown into quite a beautiful young lady."

Anakin barely stopped himself from agreeing wholeheartedly. "We're friends now." His mind strayed to their parting kiss. "Very good friends." He was very glad that the Chancellor did not have Jedi abilities-- his thoughts would have betrayed him instantly. "It's funny-- we've spent only a few days together in ten years, but it feels like we've never been apart." Anakin became aware of a very strange look on Palpatine's face. He could almost believe that he really had read his mind. But no-- that wasn't possible. And besides, the look had vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Maybe he was only imagining it.

"Yes, Senator Amidala is certainly unique and often... surprising," Palpatine said.

"I shouldn't have put her in danger," Anakin admitted, half to himself. "We shouldn't have gone to Geonosis."

"Nonsense. Your Master's life was in obvious peril. Not even Master Yoda could rightly blame you for coming to his aid. You are a brave young man-- indeed, without you, Master Kenobi would likely have perished. As I see it, you had very little choice but to go to Geonosis. I think your decision was the right one."

"Thank you, sir."

"No need for that. Rest assured, I understand perfectly." Palpatine smiled. "If anything, this battle proves what I have said before-- you are already a great Jedi. The Order cannot now fail to recognize it." Anakin felt his face redden. "And to reward you," the Chancellor continued, "perhaps there is something I can do. Perhaps you would like to.. escort Senator Amidala on her return to Naboo."

"Thank you," Anakin answered, somewhat surprised, "but my Master has already given me permission to do that, and the Senator has given her assent."

"Ah." Now it was Palpatine's turn to appear surprised. Not displeased, certainly, just surprised. "I see. Well, that is good news. I'm sure you will enjoy your time together. I don't like to say so, Anakin, but it pains me to see such a bright young woman swept up in her duties and not taking the time to experience a normal life." Anakin nodded his agreement, though he would not lend vocal support to any critical words about Padmé. "I hope that her contact with you allows her to enjoy herself, and be happy. In short," here the Chancellor allowed a slight chuckle, "that you will have a positive influence on our Senator Amidala."

Anakin smiled. "I'll try, Your Honor. Sir..." the young padawan looked suddenly uncomfortable.

"Yes, Anakin?"

"Well... while it's not necessary for you to intervene in my escorting the Senator home, there is something..."

"You have only to name it, my young friend," Palpatine said kindly.

"Would you... That is, I'd like to see her before we go. To make travel plans. As soon as possible. And my Master is wounded, so I don't want to disturb him about..."

"Say no more," the Chancellor interrupted. "It just so happens that I have a meeting with the Loyalist Committee tomorrow, and if I know Amidala, she will be sure to attend. I shall insist on your presence, young Skywalker."

Anakin nodded his gratitude. "Thank you, Chancellor."

Palpatine got up to leave, but paused and turned back. "Oh, and should you find it necessary, the Senate Apartment buildings are always open to Jedi." Without another word, the Supreme Chancellor glided from the room.

* * *

Padmé sat in the main room of her apartment, slowly making her way through the enormous stack of datapads and holodisks which had piled up in her absence. It seemed there were endless messages to answer, reports to analyze, and information to organize. First she'd contacted her family, assuring them of her safety as convincingly and concisely as possible.

"But Padmé, when are you coming home?"

She sighed at her mother's concerned expression. "Soon."

"Padmé..."

"I have to go, Mom."

Then a transmission to Queen Jamillia and the Royal Council. Sio Bibble was, as usual, irate about the whole situation, but the Queen was solemn and focused. Padmé did not doubt her capability to calm and prepare the people of Naboo in the face of the coming war.

"But when can we expect to have you back with us, Senator?"

"I don't... Soon. I don't know."

Then she had attacked her work, being interrupted only once, by Dormé. The handmaiden approached hesitantly.

"I sorted out all of the messages from the media and responded with 'no comment,' pending a report from the Chancellor's office."

"Thank you, Dormé." A few seconds later, Padmé looked up to see her still there, fidgeting nervously.

"M'lady... I was kissing Captain Typho."

"Yes, I noticed."

"I'm so sorry!" she burst forth in a sudden deluge of words. "We never meant for it to happen, it just did, while we were here alone, and then when we heard what happened to you--" she broke off and drew a breath. "We agreed not to go on with it, we decided it would be too dangerous, for you, if we were to get distracted by... But then... oh, I'm so sorry!"

"Dormé." Padmé reached out for her friend's hand. "It's all right."

"No, it isn't. It's unprofessional, and hazardous, and... and wrong."

"No." Padmé searched Dormé's face and smiled. "You like him." The handmaiden nodded, blushing. "I understand." _More than you know,_ she added mentally. "We can't choose who we fall in love with... even if we'd like to. It just happens, it takes over, regardless of timing or place or rules..." She stopped herself. "I trust you. Both of you. I feel completely safe in your hands, no matter what."

Dormé broke into a radiant smile. "Typho was too embarrassed to come out and look you in the face. It was actually very funny."

"Well, that would be an undesirable quality in a security guard. Why don't you go sort him out?"

The two shared a sisterly hug and Dormé went, beaming, from the room.

And then Padmé buried herself in data and files because it was horrible to feel jealous of Dormé's present happiness, and it was silly to cry because of her own loneliness and longing. In short, it was pointless to become wrapped up in thoughts of Anakin when there was so much to do. So much.

She did not mark the passage of time as she worked, aside from a vague awareness of growing frustration and exhaustion as the hours dragged past. She only realized how long she'd been at it when it suddenly occurred to her that she was nodding off, and she sat up sharply to find that the sun had already nearly set.

As she rose and stretched a tone indicated the presence of someone at the door. Threepio went to answer it. When Padmé looked up again there was a figure standing patiently in the center of the room, his face lit by the rapidly sinking sun.

"Anakin," she breathed. Almost before she realized she was moving, her feet had carried her to within two steps of the Jedi padawan, and there she stopped, suddenly nervous, unsure of how to proceed. In every free moment, though they had been few and far between, she'd had to stop herself from fantasizing that he'd walk through the door, and now here he was. It had been nearly two days since they'd last been together. It seemed so much longer. Neither of them knew what to say, how to begin.

"I came to see you," Anakin stated the obvious. "To see that... you're all right." His left hand slowly reached out, touched her right. Gently, it traveled up her arm, finally resting on her cheek as her fingers caught it and held it tight. He whispered, "You're all right." It' sounded like, _You're beautiful_.

She brought his hand down and wrapped it in both of hers. "Are _you_?" She could hear her voice trembling. "Should you be here? Ani, how did you get in?"

That mischievous little half-smile. "I'm well enough that they told me to return to my quarters for the night. I just took the long way."

"A scenic detour." Padmé smiled.

"Exactly." Gradually, they were drawing closer and closer together. "As to how I got in..." he shrugged, "a Jedi can get in just about anywhere." Padmé shook her head, but the smile didn't leave her face.

"Come with me." Still holding his hand in hers, she pulled him out onto the apartment's verandah, explaining, "We won't be disturbed out here." The open, airy verandah seemed filled with deep golden light. As Anakin surveyed the glowing city, Padmé's eyes, for the first time since his arrival, traveled down. "Your arm?"

With some reluctance, he removed his hand from her grasp to raise his right sleeve, and the light played off the polished metal of his new prosthetic.

For a moment she could not keep her face from contorting in a sort of shock, like a bolt of pain to the heart. She composed herself immediately, but she knew Anakin had seen the look. He withdrew the hand, refusing to meet her eyes.

Timidly, she reached out and touched the gleaming metal fingers. "Does it hurt?"

"Not much." He glanced up. "But I've been given a lot of medication."

"Can you feel with it?"

"A little." She took the golden hand between her two living ones. His finger joints bent around them. Padmé smiled up at him, and he leaned down and kissed her.

"I've been granted permission to escort you home, m'lady. I can leave as soon as you give the word."

The verandah was falling into shadow now, the sun's light starting to fade and be replaced by the city lights of a Coruscant night. She turned away from him. There was a moment of confused silence, then she felt Anakin touch her arm.

"When do we leave?" he asked. What should she say? What did she _want_ to say? Or need to say? Her time with Anakin had been a dream, a beautiful dream, but now she had been thrown back into reality. So now would she have to wake up Anakin, too?

"Padmé?" he asked quietly.

"I... can't. I'm sorry. I can't."

"What do you mean?"

She turned back to him. "Ani, I can't go back to Naboo now."

"When, then?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "I didn't realize... there's so much to do, I can't just leave."

Anakin quickly bridged the distance she'd put between them. "That's exactly why you_ should_ leave. And I want to go with you." She shook her head. "Padmé, you are a great leader, a great Senator. You serve your people every day. When was the last time you ever did anything for yourself?"

"Now you sound like my mother."

"Then maybe your mother's right. Can you answer my question?"

"Last week," she answered, raising her voice. "That time I spent in the Lake Country with you-- that was for myself. I was ready to throw away both of our futures, all for _myself_. Then a war started."

"Do you think that every time you turn your back a war is going to break out?" he asked. "Padmé, you couldn't have prevented this."

"I know that," she told him, although deep down she wasn't sure. "But now I have a responsibility. And _you_ have a responsibility."

"I don't care. I love you."

"No, you don't." Her voice was soft, but cold.

"I know what I feel."

"No! You love like a child, Ani! You don't even know what love _is_!" The words hung in the air for a tense instant before Anakin responded.

"And you do?"

Padmé's eyes widened. "Excuse me?"

"You've never allowed yourself to feel anything for anyone because you're afraid--"

"Don't you _dare_!" she shouted. "You don't even know me!"

Anakin stared at her in disbelief. "Oh, I don't?"

"No." Padmé took a breath, purposely lowering her voice. "Just because I'm a childhood acquaintance doesn't mean--"

"I know you entered public service when you were eight," he interrupted. "I know your first kiss was from a boy named Palo when you were twelve. I know you love water and you used to spend holidays at Varykino. I know you think you were too young to run a planet when you did and that you feel like you missed a lot of things because of it. I know you love Naboo and your family, and you would do anything to protect either of them. I know you're crazy about your nieces and want a family of your own. I know you've dedicated your whole life to serving others and you think of everyone else before yourself. You care passionately about the Republic. But I know you're getting tired. What you secretly want is to escape from that life. You want a chance to be yourself. You want some excitement. You're a warrior who above all desires peace. I know that you throw yourself into your work to hide from things in life that make you scared or uncomfortable. I know you're afraid to let your guard down and allow yourself to love. I know that you're a hellion when you're angry. I know that you play with your hands and smooth your dress when you get nervous. I know all of this, and I know that I've loved you since I was nine years old and I will always love you. And I _know_ that you love me, too."

Padmé shook her head slowly, blinking back tears. She fought to keep her composure under Anakin's pleading gaze. "It won't work. You know that. It just won't. Anakin..." Her voice broke. "I can't go back to Naboo now." He opened his mouth to speak, but she stopped him. "Don't, Anakin. Please, just go."

The padawan drew a shaking breath and nodded. "Fine, m'lady."

He turned and went, leaving her alone in the emptiness of the dark verandah.


	3. Coruscant II

Disclaimer: _Star Wars_ is the property of George Lucas and Lucasfilm. I mean no infringement and make no profit.

A/N: Thanks again to my beta Alicia, and thanks so much to everybody who has reviewed! Please keep 'em coming!

_**Chapter Three: Coruscant II**_

The meditation chamber, one of many in the Jedi Temple, was dim and quiet. It was constructed to be a place of refuge, a calm point in a galaxy of chaos. The padawan seated at its center knew the room's purpose well, but he was finding it very difficult to escape from the disquiet and chaos raging inside his mind.

He had slept fitfully the night before. His wounded arm had hurt but, more than that, his heart was tormented. He was sure that Padmé loved him—he had seen the truth in her eyes when she'd said it. The only thing he was more sure of was his love for her. What he was not sure of now was whether they would ever speak to one another again.

And so he was building a lightsaber—his new lightsaber, to replace the one he'd lost on Geonosis. It was a craft that required the utmost concentration, which was why he had chosen to pursue it-- to take his mind away, temporarily, from Padmé. This was also why he was failing at it. The crystals, the metals, all fitting together, and… Why was she so afraid to be with him? Why did it have to be so hard?

The shell of the lightsaber fell apart and the pieces scattered. He bent to pick them up, not really seeing them, seeing only her. Not as he'd last seen her, or, for that matter, as he saw her most of the time: stately, formal, and serious. He was seeing that neutral countenance break, suddenly, into a radiant, laughing smile, meant only for him to see. That was the image of her face he'd carried with him for ten years. Each rare smile, then and now, filled him with complete joy at having had some part in that happiness. He liked to see her happy.

Without his realizing it, the lightsaber had begun to take shape again. His train of thought had led him into a sort of meditative state. His prosthetic hand, though, now fumbled and got in the way. The delicate balance that held the pieces in place was broken, and once more the parts lay disconnected before him. Anakin sighed and began the process again.

He liked to see Padmé happy. Would this separation, practical as it seemed, make her happy? He could not believe that it would. How often did she smile when he wasn't there, these days? How often was a decorous and dignified Senator allowed to laugh? And how could a heart that was breaking, as he knew his own to be, a heart in so much pain, know happiness?

_It changes nothing_, she'd say. _We have our responsibilities_. And she would follow the call of public service, always making others happy. And it would kill her.

The parts of the lightsaber flew apart, bouncing off the walls. Anakin buried his head in his hands.

This wasn't fair! It wasn't fair to either of them! He was a Jedi, she was a Senator. So that was it, there the matter must end? Couldn't either of them have been _anything_ else? But no, they'd chosen their paths and were now forced to follow them. The padawan took a deep breath, trying to calm himself.

He'd been hurt by what she'd said to him. "No, you don't. You don't know what love is. You don't even know me. Just because you're a childhood acquaintance…" Each word like a blaster bolt, striking home, leaving him stunned. Could she really think that? What he'd told her had been the truth; did she think she had been telling him the same?

But she was wrong. This went beyond the mere idol-worship felt by a ten-year-old boy. This was deeper. He knew her heart. He would never tire of learning everything else. Wasn't that enough?

In the dim, solitary silence of the meditation chamber, the answer seemed to be a resounding "no."

Back to the lightsaber. The casing, first. She was a Senator and he was a Jedi, and so he would construct his Jedi weapon. He would use that weapon to become a great Jedi, wise and powerful, respected throughout the Order. She was a Senator and he was a Jedi, and that was all they could ever be. Except… that wouldn't be true.

The lightsaber crystals locked into place.

Years ago, she had entered the Legislative Youth Program on Naboo and had found her calling. Year ago, he had set his feet on the path of the Jedi and begun his training according to the will of the Force. Young as they'd been—too young, perhaps—they had chosen their fates. They had decided.

The tiny metal parts all fitting together…

And yet… something beyond both his understanding as a Jedi and hers as a Senator connected them to one another. He'd felt it the first moment she'd seen him and smiled. If he had some destiny, he had known then that she would be a part of it. It was the will of the Force, and the will of the Force worked mysteriously. Something inside of Anakin knew that it wouldn't matter even if he and Padmé never set eyes on one another again, never exchanged another word. Even should they each live out their separate public roles to apparent perfection, that perfection would be a lie because their souls would never stop crying to be reunited. They were bound to one another.

The completed lightsaber rested between the padawan's hands.

And he could not believe that the Force would be so cruel as to put them through all of this if they were never to see each other again.

Anakin ignited his lightsaber, cut the air once with its glowing blade, and then shut it off. He clipped the weapon to his belt and strode purposefully from the room.

She was a Senator and he was a Jedi, and so he would perform a Jedi's duty. He would accompany the Chancellor to the day's meeting of the Loyalist Committee.

* * *

Padmé had scarcely slept at all the previous night. For some time she had listened to Dormé and Captain Typho's muffled voices. They were laughing together over private jokes, they were murmuring into one another's ears. They were happy, Padmé reflected distantly, in a way she would probably never be again. She felt numb. What she'd said to Anakin… those hateful things, hurtful things. But they'd needed to be said. And he'd hurt her, too.

Once or twice she caught the sound of her own name coming from the adjacent room. "She doesn't seem like herself," Dormé was saying. "Haven't you noticed?"

"Yes, well," Typho muttered uncomfortably. "Give her time."

And then she's lost the thread of the conversation again. When the voices eventually ceased, she lay staring into the shadows of her darkened room, too tired to think, too troubled to sleep.

When the morning came, her body was sore again, the gashes across her back burning. She snapped at Dormé and Typho while getting ready for the meeting, and then had to watch them exchange doubtful glances as they clearly entertained the possibility of prohibiting her from working today by lashing her back onto her bed and locking the door to her chamber. The stiff Senatorial gown only made her discomfort worse as she made the journey to Bail Organa's apartment, where the meeting was to be held.

There she somehow managed to meet every concerned "How _are_ you?" with a reassuring smile. While this satisfied the rest of the committee, it did not deflect the anxious attention of Jar Jar and Bail. The Gungan was hovering so close that once or twice he tripped over her train. The Alderaanian Senator was constantly at her elbow, warding off the more curious delegates with a protective air and a warning gaze. Padmé quickly grew grateful for both Bail's support and Jar Jar's clumsiness, and manifested this by graciously pretending not to notice either. Everything was going smoothly, she almost felt relaxed, when…

She could not be sure, afterward, which had come first—the sudden, strange awareness of his presence or Jar Jar's delighted squeal of "Ani!" Perhaps they had both reached her consciousness at once. As Jar Jar babbled a series of questions about Anakin's health, Padmé, a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach, slowly turned to face him.

He looked horribly tired. His attention, thank goodness, was monopolized by Jar Jar. At his side stood the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic. Padmé winced at Jar Jar's lapse in courtesy, not greeting the Chancellor first. And she, Senator Padmé Amidala, would have to set it aright.

Steeling herself, she stepped forward and politely addressed Palpatine who, inevitably, presented her to Anakin. He bowed.

"M'lady." His voice was so cold, so distant.

"Jedi Skywalker." She could scarcely utter the words. For a fraction of a second, their eyes met, but Anakin looked away too quickly for her to get any sense of what he was thinking. _Last night_, she thought, _just last night we could have drifted in one another's eyes like sunlight on the sea, forever._ But there was no use wasting time on those memories now, she told herself. Best to attend to the matters at hand.

The ten members of the Loyalist Committee seated themselves in a circle with the Chancellor at its head and the Jedi padawan standing behind him. The meeting began.

"Esteemed delegates of the Senate representing the Loyalist Committee," Palpatine made eye contact with each in turn, "may I begin by thanking you for your dedicated service to the Republic and to myself."

_To the Republic_, Padmé thought, _not to you_.

"And let me congratulate you on your initiative in a crisis, the rapid and necessary gain of approval for our Grand Clone Army."

Padmé caught an uneasy look on Bail's face which matched her own feelings about this army.

"You have stood firm and performed your duties efficiently in confronting the Separatist crisis," Palpatine continued. "Now, sadly, it is our misfortune to have fallen into civil war. This necessarily changes the situation in nearly every aspect of our government. We must now determine the function of this committee, if it is to remain intact, in the new and difficult times to come."

He opened the floor to the delegates. Bail was the first to speak.

"I move to continue the committee's diplomatic function, in light of recent events," he stated.

Padmé nodded. "I concur."

"Well, I don't!" Ask Aak interjected. "Surely this committee is unnecessary, now that we have passed the phase of negotiation."

Padmé stopped listening. The Senator from Malastare was loud, patronizing, and defensive in debate situations, unable to see reason until it was practically presented on an engraved plaque ten centimeters from his eyestalks. She had no patience for this today.

Anakin was deliberately not looking at her. His gaze was fixed on the far wall.

She looked down at her lap, and realized that she was playing with her hands, knitting her fingers together, clenching and unclenching them. She remembered Anakin's words from the night before.

_He's right_, she thought. _I do do that._

_Sithspit_. How was it that he knew her so well after only a handful of fleeting days? Was it some Jedi power?

_No. No, because I know him, too_.

They'd shared so much, words and feelings and… moments. Looks and kisses… a picnic in the meadow. What did it all add up to, really? Not much. Not on the surface.

But he'd bared his soul to her. She'd seen him completely vulnerable before the fire at Varykino. She's seen him angry, devastated, on Tatooine. He had frightened her that day. What he'd told her had been horrible, and even now the thought of it caused icy fingers of dread to grip her heart.

But she had held him as he cried. She'd held him to forgive him, or maybe just because she didn't know what else to do. She'd held him to protect the innocence of that little boy she'd met ten years ago. She loved that boy, and she loved the man he had become. She loved him for loving her in a way no one ever had. And that day in the Lars' garage, when she'd seen him broken and sobbing and she'd knelt down in the sand beside him, she fully realized it, deep inside herself, for the first time.

_Many things will change when we reach the capital, Ani_, she'd told him once, when she'd knelt beside a crying, grieving boy separated from his home and all he knew, and had held him in the same way she'd done only days ago, _But my caring for you will remain_.

And it had. Though everything was changing all around, that one thing had stayed. She cared for him, so much. So why were they avoiding eye contact, separated by a few meters of carpet that might as well have been half the galaxy?

Suddenly Padmé felt very alone.

She wasn't used to feeling alone. Usually she felt herself to be intimately connected with others through her service, tied to the life of the community. But somehow that wasn't enough, now. Of all those people she made it her duty to serve, not one of them really knew her. And here, surrounded by bickering Senatorial delegates of varying moral worth, she was lonely in a way she had never been before.

Someone had said her name. It was Orn Free Taa, the Twi'lecki Senator.

"As Senator Amidala should be able to tell us, we cannot hope to reach the Separatists through peaceful means."

Padmé started to respond, but was abruptly cut off by Onaconda Farr, the Senator from Rodia.

"Oh, yes, Senator Amidala should be able to tell us all about the Separatists," he said in a withering voice.

"And why is that?" Ister Paddie asked, sounding bored.

"Isn't it clear to you? Isn't it clear to you all?" the Rodian shouted, and pointed at Padmé. "_That_ one is in league with them! Has been all along! That is why she advocated a non-aggressive stance in the dispute, it is why she stalled the work of this committee, and it is why she was on Geonosis when battle broke _out_! _Not_ captured by the Separatists, but _employed _by them!"

Even Anakin's carefully neutral expression turned to one of shock at this outburst.

Padmé, flushed with anger, scarcely knew how to begin, but Bail beat her to it.

"This is ridiculous!" He fixed Senator Farr with a fierce glare. "How dare you, sir?"

"I must ask you, Senator Farr, to calm down and, if you have proof of this very serious accusation, to bring it forward. Otherwise, we must move on. I will not entertain groundless arguments." Palpatine's stern words were supported by his tone.

"How can you say it is groundless?" Farr continued to yell. "What further proof do you need?"

"I advocated peaceful resolution to this conflict as well," Senator Lexi Dio, from Uyter, spoke evenly. "Do you wish to accuse me also?"

"Not yet," Farr answered sharply. "But you were not there when the war started. She was."

"Senator Farr." Padmé at last found her voice. "This is out of line. If I had wanted war, would I have spoken out for peace my entire life? My reason for going to Geonosis was diplomatic, and I was imprisoned for espionage and would have been executed if—"

"And why were you accused of espionage?" Ronet Coorr asked. "I do not support Senator Farr's claims of treason, but it seems to me that a legitimate diplomatic conference would not have gotten you arrested—"

"And we all know what the holonet is reporting," Ask Aak inserted, unwilling to be left out.

"Dis is nutsen! Senator Amidala is no doin' nutten wit da Separatists and nutten wit da war!" Jar Jar Binks interjected, and was largely ignored.

"Come now, Senators." Horox Ryyder, ever placid, motioned for calm. "Surely we have not come to that. The holonet has been reporting something different every hour."

"And any way they report it," Farr finished maliciously, "she was the final spark which ignited open warfare in the Republic."

_That's not true_, Padmé wanted to scream, _You know it's not true!_

But Palpatine spoke first. "Delegates, we are off topic. I order the committee to return to the matter at hand."

Bail met her eyes apologetically. Padmé looked down at her hands as they smoothed out her dress. She _was_ alone here. Even Bail, whom she trusted and respected, even liked, even he she had not let in. She would always be alone here. Senator Amidala, cold and untouchable.

She longed for Naboo suddenly, for a place where she was simply Padmé Naberrie, a woman who, until a week or so ago, she'd almost forgotten existed. She thought about being a child, swimming across the sparkling lake, laughing. She thought about her parents, how they tried to convince her that her service was done, that she should come home. She could never tell him how often she'd secretly agreed. She thought of her sister Sola's reproachful, "Don't you ever want to take, just a little?" Sola, who had seen in Anakin what Padmé hadn't wanted to. "Just a boy? Have you seen the way he looks at you?"

She thought of her nieces Ryoo and Pooja, laughing as they danced around Artoo.

She thought of how she'd laughed, when Anakin was with her.

_We'd be living a lie_, she'd told him, but were they living any less of a lie now, by _not_ being together? All at once she knew that she could not go back to being Senator Amidala, content to be always alone. Nor did she want to.

What she felt for Anakin wasn't simply some irrational whim. Anakin knew her. Truly knew her, even if she couldn't explain it, just as she somehow felt that she knew him. When she was with him, she felt safe. Safe from all of this, all of the bickering and the corruption and the violence. When she held him, she knew that they both felt sheltered from the forces of chaos they could not control. Now, when she may have lost him forever, pushed him away of her own free will, she just wanted to feel safe again.

She wanted to be somewhere where she could feel safe.

* * *

Anakin hadn't really been following the committee's debate until they'd started talking about Padmé. Now that they'd stopped, his attention waned again. He realized that he'd been gripping the hilt of his lightsaber, and wondered what exactly he'd been planning to do with it. He imagined himself drawing it on that paranoid idiot from Rodia, defending Padmé's honor—that would at least have been amusing, if not entirely appropriate. Surely they must be wrong in saying that public opinion held that Padmé had had a hand in starting the war. No one who knew her could possibly believe that. And if they did, if Aak and the others were right about what the holonet was reporting, then that just proved that all politicians were less than worthless. All except the Chancellor and Padmé. And, for the sake of disputing Obi-Wan's general opinion of Senators, perhaps a few others—Organa, for instance, seemed tolerable.

He only glanced at her occasionally to avoid attracting her notice, but Anakin noted that Padmé wasn't paying attention either, although she concealed it well. Every now and then she would glance up at whoever was speaking, but she wasn't seeing them, and she wasn't hearing anything. He wished he knew what she was seeing. She never looked in his direction.

The debate went on.

"What if we were to convince systems which could be leaving now to stay?" Lexi Dio asked. "Surely that is a purpose worth remaining active for."

"Dis is true," Jar Jar agreed. "More systems leavin', 'tis mui mui bombad for all of ussens. Needin' more support."

"Let them leave," said Ask Aak. "Our army does not depend on the number of star systems in our control."

Horox Ryyder shook his voluminous head. "Resources. We must have their resources."

Orn Free Taa and Ronet Coorr concurred.

"Our key function would be morale, you mark my words," said Onaconda Farr.

"One of them, certainly," Organa conceded. "And that is no bad thing. But above all we must bring a swift conclusion to this war."

"That is out of our hands," Ister Paddie answered. "Our troops arrive here shortly. It will be up to them."

Palpatine's eyes, Anakin noticed, had come to rest on Padmé. Undoubtedly he had noticed her lack of attention, too, and now wished to recall it.

"Senator Amidala, what is your opinion in this matter?"

Becoming aware of the eyes on her, Padmé looked up. At first, Anakin thought that she would have to ask the Chancellor to repeat his question. He observed that, for an instant, she met his eyes before fixing them steadily on Palpatine.

She said, very quietly, "I want to go home."

The delegates stared. But Padmé, seeming not to notice, calmly addressed Palpatine in the formal manner of a Senator. "Chancellor, I request a leave of absence from the Senate to return to Naboo, effective immediately."

"Your request is granted," Palpatine answered, caught off guard.

"Thank you." Abruptly she rose and exited the apartment.

The Senators stared after her, then looked at one another, bewildered. On another day Anakin would have followed her without hesitation, but after the events of the night before he wasn't sure that he'd be welcome. He waited, therefore, until Palpatine looked up at him and said, "Jedi Skywalker, would you escort Senator Amidala back to her quarters?"

"Certainly, Chancellor." Amid muted Senatorial voices murmuring things like "delayed post-traumatic reaction, only to be expected," Anakin strode out after Padmé.

He spotted her walking quickly toward the end of the hall. Even as he increased his pace to catch up with her, though, she stopped and stood still, her back to him. It wasn't until he was directly behind her that he noticed her shoulders shaking. She was crying.

He reached out and touched her arm with his left hand, the living one. "Padmé—"

She pulled away. "Why did you follow me?"

"To escort you back to your room," he replied, not bothering to hide how he resented her continued coldness. "You'll want to prepare for your journey back to Naboo."

He heard her breath catch as she struggled to compose herself, and his heart melted. He couldn't be angry with her when she was like this.

"You shouldn't travel back alone. I can arrange for someone from the Order to accompany you," he murmured uncomfortably.

She turned and looked up at him, wiping away the tears on her cheeks.

"Anakin," her voice was breaking, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Ani… What I said… I didn't mean…" And suddenly she was in his arms, sobbing. "Please don't leave me."

"I won't," Anakin answered immediately, stunned. Any bitterness remaining from the night before vanished in an instant. "I could never."

"I'm sorry. I love you." She clung to him tightly. "I don't want to lose you."

"It's all right. I'm here." He wasn't sure what to do or say, so he tried to soothe her through the Force. Yet it was hard, because all he was able to concentrate on was the one thought, _She needs me._ It had never occurred to him before, and the very idea astonished him. _She needs me just as much as I need her_. After a moment, she began to calm down, and he leaned in to gently kiss her.

"Let's go home, Ani," she said softly. "Take me home to Naboo."

He promised that he would.

Late that afternoon, Anakin found Obi-Wan in a meditation chamber of the Jedi Temple. The older Jedi opened his eyes as his padawan took a seat opposite him.

"Where have you been today?"

"I was speaking with Senator Amidala. I leave for Naboo tomorrow. She wishes to return home as soon as possible, and I've told her I have permission to escort her."

"Very well." Obi-Wan eyed him closely. "You cannot stay there too long."

"I know, Master."

"A week, perhaps. Not much more."

"Yes, Master."

Obi-Wan sighed, resigned. "Be careful, Anakin."

The padawan nodded and closed his eyes to meditate. He hadn't wanted to leave Padmé's apartment to return here. He wouldn't want to leave Naboo after a week. Forever there, with her, would not be long enough. But he was not in the mood to argue. He wanted to meditate, to reflect. Finding Padmé in tears in the hallway had left him feeling stunned and helpless. Together they had been through so much, shared so much, and yet he realized… before today, he had never seen her cry.


	4. Naboo Royal Starship

Disclaimer: _Star Wars_ is the property of George Lucas and Lucasfilm. I mean no infringement and make no profit.

A/N: Thanks again to Alicia for the awesome beta-reading and to everyone who has reviewed for being so nice to me. This story is almost done—one more chapter after this—but another will follow very shortly. Watch the author get around using graphic language with her new best friend the ellipsis in…

_**Chapter Four: Naboo Royal Starship**_

Queen Jamillia's starship blasted through hyperspace. Aboard were several pieces of expensive luggage, two droids, pilot Ric Olié, Jedi padawan Anakin Skywalker, and Naboo Senator Padmé Amidala. The Senator's own official cruiser had been destroyed upon her arrival on Coruscant more than a week ago; her private yacht had been lost on Geonosis. The last time she had flown to Naboo it had been aboard a public transport, disguised as a refugee. The Queen, however, would hear of no such thing this time, and had sent her own private ship to carry the wayward Senator home.

Padmé had instructed her security chief and handmaiden to remain on Coruscant for a few days at least, and travel back to Naboo separately. The official reason given was to act as decoys, hiding the fact that she had left the capital from the public and the press. Dormé and Typho saw it as the Senator's way of giving the two of them time alone together without having to worry about watching over her. Padmé had indeed had this in mind, but she also knew that this was an opportunity for her to be alone with Anakin. Truthfully, Captain Typho at first protested the arrangement. He didn't trust Anakin, harboring the notion that he'd led Naboo's beloved Amidala into danger by bringing her to Geonosis, no matter how many times Padmé explained to him that it had been the other way around. It took Dormé over an hour to convince him that everything would be fine, and Padmé suspected that he had still given Anakin a stern talking-to before he'd let him board the ship.

Anakin had been excited to see Ric Olié again. The pilot was older than he'd been when he had flown them through the blockade of Naboo ten years ago and had led the Bravo flight to knock out the Trade Federation's flagship, but his eyes still twinkled with a keen sense of adventure. The two men were in the cockpit now, Olié showing Anakin the modifications that had been made to the Nubian vessel since the day he'd first shown him the controls. Padmé took the opportunity to send a holo to her family.

"We'll be coming out of hyperspace soon, Dad."

"Good." The miniature image of Ruwee Naberrie smiled at his daughter. "Should we expect you for dinner, or do you have business in Theed tonight?"

"I'll be in Theed this afternoon, but I thought I'd spend the night at Varykino. I left a lot of my things there. I'd like to get them." Padmé braced herself for her father's disappointment, but Ruwee only nodded.

"I understand. Varykino does have such a soothing effect on the soul. I think it's a good idea." He raised an eyebrow. "Although this does leave me in the difficult position of having to explain your delayed arrival to your mother."

Padmé smiled. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, I'll manage. Don't work too hard."

"I won't," she said, for once meaning it.

"See you soon, ami tipasimé."

"See you soon, Dad." The holo clicked off.

_Ami tipasimé_, "my beloved little girl" in the old Naboo language. He must be as glad about her homecoming as she herself was—and he must have picked up on her happiness. He couldn't have missed it.

She had left Coruscant still thinking about the war, about her own involvement, about what the holonet was saying—because she had seen it now. But as they flew through hyperspace, all of that seemed to drop away. Maybe it was because nothing could reach her in hyperspace, she was completely cut off from the rest of the galaxy. She was isolated in this small pocket of peace, of calm, of intimate joy, just Ric Olié, the two droids, herself, and Anakin.

Maybe Anakin was the reason for her happiness. For the past hours they'd sat here, just the two of them, joking and laughing, then sometimes talking seriously, then again sitting in comfortable silence, holding hands. She was starting to feel like Padmé again, something she hadn't felt since arriving back on Coruscant after the battle. Separated in hyperspace from the cares and concerns of the galaxy and all the things that in most conditions kept them apart, they had come to know the sweetness of being in love, rather than just the pain. The only other place Padmé knew of that could make her feel like nothing else existed was Varykino. And that was where they were going.

There they would hold onto this feeling as long as possible, spending the days in the meadows and by the lake. She could take him to the island where the old man had made things out of glass. And at night… she felt a flutter of nervousness… why not, if they were alone together and the world couldn't reach them? If they could make themselves forget about the rest of the galaxy together in the night… why not? They hadn't spoken of it, but at times when they kissed the desire because almost more than they could bear.

With anyone other than Anakin Skywalker, she wouldn't even be considering such things. Yet with Anakin she felt safe, and she could no longer doubt that he truly loved her. For a time she'd been anxious that he loved her too much, depended on her too much, wanted more than she, or anyone, could give. Could he recognize the importance of other things, other people? The whole galaxy would be depending on him, soon enough, to fight for its freedom, just as it depended on her in the Senate. But then she'd remembered Geonosis, and how she had been thrown from the clone transport onto the desert. They had been following Count Dooku, been given a chance to put an end to the violence quickly. When she had fallen out, the transport had gone on. _He didn't come back for me_. He had not jeopardized the future of the galaxy simply for her sake. And realizing this, for the first time, she'd thought, _This could work_.

It would be hard, the secrets, the deception, but perhaps it would somehow work. And tonight at Varykino, perhaps…

Occupied with these thoughts, exciting thoughts she'd never really had before, Padmé did not notice Anakin walking up behind her. When he wrapped his arms around her, she jumped, startled, and he broke into laughter.

"Anakin!" She spun around to face him.

"Who did you think it was? Olié? Threepio? Ar--"

She silenced him with a long, deep kiss.

As they broke apart, the warning bell sounded to alert them that the ship was coming out of hyperspace.

* * *

Anakin followed Padmé to the nearest viewport, where they watched the surreal light of hyperspace turn into the streaks of passing stars, which gradually gave way to the brilliant emerald orb of Naboo in the distance.

"It's beautiful," Padmé said. "No matter how many times I see it like this, I'm always awed by how beautiful it is, awed to think that I live there."

"Most planets look the same to me from this far away," Anakin told her.

"Not to me. To me, Naboo is special. It looks like a jewel."

Anakin couldn't argue. And, holding Padmé so close to him, not resisting his touch, leaning her head against his chest, he quickly began to agree. Even from a distance, Naboo was a special, beautiful place.

"What do we do when we get there?" he asked.

Padmé frowned a little, thinking. "A meeting with Queen Jamillia and the Council, which shouldn't take long if all goes well. Then we can go back to the lake retreat, and stay there for a day or so. After that, my parents will expect us. Be prepared for even more food than last time-- Mom will want to reward you for bringing me back safely."

"By feeding me until I explode?" he asked incredulously, and Padmé laughed. Anakin gloried in the sound.

"Where was your favorite place as a kid?" he asked. It was like a game they'd played ever since they'd first become reacquainted. Ask a question, any question—your favorite? your first?—and the other had to answer with the truth. Then it was their turn to ask. It could go on for hours, as they explored one another's thoughts, feelings, and souls, always wanting to know more.

Now Padmé smiled gently at a distant memory. "There was a corner in the garden wall where the flowers concealed a little space. I was the only person who ever went there, and nobody was able to find me. Not even Sola. I'd watch her look for me for what seemed like hours sometimes, but I never came out until I was good and ready."

"I hid from Watto in corners of the scrap yard all the time. I knew all the ins and outs of those junk piles."

"Even when I joined the Apprentice Legislature, I'd still hide there, when I just wanted to be a kid. When I was tired of acting like a Senatorial delegate." She sighed. "I wish I could go back there sometimes now."

"Why can't you?"

She gave a half-smile. "I outgrew it. When I was twelve and I became Princess of Theed, I told myself I had to be a responsible adult and never go back there, even when I wanted to. After all, I was in charge of an entire city. I did try again, when I was fourteen. It was right after the Blockade Crisis. But I couldn't fit anymore, it was too small. That was when I knew there was no going back, because I _was_ grown up…" She trailed off, staring out at the stars and the approaching planet. "I was fourteen."

Naboo now occupied most of the viewport.

Anakin nodded. "I realized I was grown up the day I first had to use my lightsaber as a weapon against another person. But a part of me has always felt like I was never a child, or anyway not like other children."

"Yes." She looked somehow so sad now. He had to take the game in a different direction.

"What do you want most in the galaxy, Padmé? More than anything?" He saw the flicker of a smile return to her face at the earnestness in his voice.

"If I tell you, you'll say I'm boring."

"I'll do no such thing, m'lady. But don't say 'peace.' Something just for yourself."

"Fine." Her eyes traveled back to the viewport, gazing at the planet's glowing greens and blues. "I want a family and a home of my own, in some quiet corner of Naboo." Her voice was low and almost hypnotic, bringing the images clearly to Anakin's mind. "I want to be free of obligations and be able to do whatever I feel like and live an utterly normal life--"

Anakin scoffed. "Normal? With you around?"

"All right, a _comparatively_ normal life… and be happy." She gave him a defiant look. "_That_ is my most selfish desire."

"You deserve to have it."

She shrugged, trying to make light of the situation. "Some things aren't meant to be. At least not anytime soon." She looked up at him. "And you, Jedi Skywalker? What do you want more than anything in the galaxy?"

Mesmerized by her beauty, her grace, her eyes, the utter perfection that was Padmé, he answered without thinking. "I want to marry you."

Padmé froze. She released herself from Anakin's embrace and stepped back, staring at him. Her face was locked in a perplexed expression, her mouth retaining the ghost of an unsure smile.

Shaking her head, she said, "Ani… what…?"

He should take it back, he knew. He should laugh it off and say that he wasn't being serious. But… now that he'd said it, he didn't want to. It was true.

The realization caught even him off guard. Yet nothing had ever seemed so clear, so right. He was more happy, more content with Padmé than anywhere else. The passionate fire of her spirit excited him. Her very presence soothed him. His whole world hung on her every glance, and she accepted him even at his worst. She loved him. He'd loved her since the moment he'd seen her. And ever since that moment, hadn't he known that this day must one day come? Yes. He had known they would be together, known through the Force that it was their unlikely destiny since as a nine-year-old slave he'd looked at the beautiful young Queen and said, "I'm going to marry you."

So instead of dismissing the words he'd spoken, he looked deeply into Padmé's wide brown eyes. She wasn't smiling now. Neither was he.

"Marry me, Padmé. Will you marry me?"

* * *

Padmé stared at Anakin Skywalker, unable to speak. At that moment, a parade of shaaks could have wandered by and she couldn't have moved. She probably wouldn't even have noticed. It was impossible that he'd asked her what she had just heard him ask. Through a dreamlike haze she heard him say, "Padmé?" and the sound jolted her out of her numbness. She shook her head. _What did you say?_ seemed like an acceptable way to begin, but she had no doubt in her mind as to what he'd said.

What she found herself saying was, "Are you being serious?"

"Yes. I mean it."

"You just asked me in all seriousness to marry you."

"Yes, I did."

Her throat felt very tight. She wanted to sit down, but there was no place to do so. Instead, she managed to shout, "Ani! Have you completely lost your mind?"

"Maybe." He was grinning. "Maybe I have, but I think I like it."

"Marriage is expressly forbidden by the Jedi Order, and you are a Jedi, Anakin, although you seem to keep forgetting that fact!"

"I don't care about the Code. It's outdated and ineffective, and this is more important than an archaic set of rules. It's the will of the Force, I'm sure of it."

_The will of the Force_. Some vast, fated plan that not even the Jedi could fully comprehend. Padmé had never believed in such things before. Yet now, suddenly, she thought of the look that Master Yoda had given her on the Republic Cruiser going back to Coruscant, the emotions she'd seen sweep across his aged face—anger, understanding, sadness, and at last a kind of resignation, as though he'd looked into the depths of her soul and found something in her that had left him heartbroken. _What did Yoda see?_ She felt dizzy, swept along by something bigger than herself, something she couldn't understand. Her instinct was to fight it, to combat it with reason.

"Are you going to leave the Jedi?" she asked him. She wasn't sure what she wanted him to answer.

Anakin looked a little surprised. "They wouldn't find out. They need me, they're busy, they…"

"Anakin."

He took a deep breath, looked her in the eyes. "If it comes to that… yes. I'd do anything for you. Anything you ask."

The angry words burst forth at once. "I can't let you leave the Jedi Order!" Aware that she probably sounded hysterical, she lowered her voice. "You're a gifted Jedi, Ani, you have so much promise. You are not going to lose all of that just for _me_! I'm not worth that."

"Yes, you are. Padmé, we love each other. All that's standing between us is that I'm a Jedi. Well, I don't have to be."

"Yes, you do." She felt weary now, tired of explaining this over and over. "It's not something you can just stop. You could leave the Order, but you'd still be a Jedi inside, unable to act as one, and you'd resent me…"

"No, I wouldn't," he responded bluntly.

"And what about all of the innocent people who might suffer because you're not there to help them?"

"And what about you?" he countered. "Wouldn't you suffer if I chose those duties over you? I know that I would."

"You should never have boarded this ship," she said softly. "We should have just left it alone."

"And gone our whole lives wondering?"

_How is it possible that I'm losing this debate?_ she wondered. _Maybe because I'm not sure I want to win_. The thought brought her up short. This was insane, all of it. Even if he wasn't a Jedi, even if she wasn't a Senator, they'd spent perhaps a collective three weeks together over the past decade. That was too fast to fall in love, and certainly too fast to be arguing about marriage. Yet here they were, and she loved him, and they were having this argument. And if he hadn't been a Jedi and she hadn't been a Senator, would Padmé Naberrie have said yes to his proposal? _In a heartbeat_.

There had to be some other way, some balance that could be struck, a fine line that they could walk. She was frantically trying to find it, so far without success, and she was getting frustrated. _Why am I the one who's always supposed to know the answers?_ There was no right answer here, none at all.

"Why can't we just… love one another?" she asked. "Isn't that enough?"

"You know it's not. Besides, I wouldn't want to… dishonor you that way." He blushed. "And when I leave to fight this war… I'll have to fight, Padmé, and I want to know that… that you belong to me, that you'll still be… we'll be joined together, even if it's in a way no one else can see."

The war. Padmé had forgotten about it, somehow. There would be a war. And Anakin, her Ani, would have to fight. What if he was hurt again? What if… the thought chilled her. She could lose him forever… without ever having really had him, without any formal acknowledgement of a bond between them. She had to reach out and touch him, just to assure herself that he was still there.

So it would have to be now. If they were to do this, it would have to be now. This was the point where a choice would have to be made. Standing on the Naboo Royal Starship, the geographic features of the main Naboo landmass growing clearer through the viewport, Padmé knew that there could be no going back.

She would have to tell him no. They both had too much to lose.

And yet… how much would they lose if she refused him now? What would her life be, if she always did what was best for others and never for herself? If she always did what was expected of Senator Amidala and never what made Padmé happy? Life was so fleeting and precious. She thought of her handmaiden Cordé, her friend, and how she'd watched her die on the landing platform on Coruscant. She looked out at the surface of Naboo, thought of the billions of little lives being carried out there. Had any one of them ever felt a love like this?

On Geonosis she had given up trying to comprehend what existed between her and Anakin because she'd thought they were going to die, and it hadn't mattered anymore. When they'd come back alive, it had suddenly mattered very much. Yet it had proven itself to be stronger than she'd ever thought it could be. It didn't make sense, she still didn't know if it was right, but it was there, and now… she surrendered to it.

The galaxy was soon to be consumed by war and chaos; who knew how much time they had? Padmé Amidala was going to live her life by her heart, just this once, this most important time.

"I love you, Ani. I don't want to lose you."

"You couldn't lose me now if you tried," he said.

"You asked me what I want more than anything. I want to be with you. I want you."

He smiled a little. "Even though with me life will never be boring and normal?"

"Yes. Even then. Even if it means we have to suffer in secret. Even if we'll be punished for it. Even if it does destroy us…" Conflicting emotions washed over her in waves, and tears came to her eyes.

"Are you saying yes?" Anakin's smile was growing, and Padmé found herself slowly smiling in return.

"Yes." She couldn't believe she was saying it, couldn't believe how much she had _wanted_ to say it all along. "Yes, I'll marry you."

They were grinning, she was laughing for the pure joy of it, and then she was in his arms. He was kissing her deeply, passionately, and she wasn't sure whether he'd lifted her off the floor or she simply felt like she was floating.

They broke apart when Ric Olié's voice came on over the comm to inform them that the ship was landing. They'd entered Naboo's atmosphere.

"How soon?" Padmé asked Anakin breathlessly.

"How soon can you be ready?"


	5. Varykino

Disclaimer: _Star Wars_ is the property of George Lucas and Lucasfilm. I mean no infringement and make no profit.

A/N: This is the last chapter. One last thanks to Alicia and to my reviewers! I got the marriage ceremony by combining a little bit of Vedic marriage texts with a lot of Joseph Campbell. The language: Yes, I am a big huge dork. Why do you ask?

_**Chapter Five: Varykino**_

Anakin Skywalker stared out across the lake from the balcony of the house where he and Padmé had, not long ago, shared their very first kiss. It was here, too, that he and Padmé would very soon be married. Standing several meters to one side, seemingly lost in meditation, was a Naboo holy man. Close by on Anakin's other side was R2-D2 who, from the way he was fidgeting around, appeared to be nearly as nervous as Anakin was.

They had landed in Theed in the late morning hours and had gone directly into a meeting with Queen Jamillia and the Royal Council. This had gone fairly quickly; Padmé had brought the Queen up to speed on any details she may not have known, and then informed her that she would be spending the next few days in secluded place where the media wouldn't find her. Queen Jamillia respected this decision and, though a curious look indicated that she had noticed the way the Senator's eyes kept straying to her Jedi protector, and his to her, she made no comment.

Padmé had then taken him by the hand and led him through what seemed to Anakin like a labyrinth of white marble corridors, but which was apparently as familiar to Padmé as the Jedi Temple was to him. They ended up in a suite which Padmé explained was her official residence in the Palace. After a half hour of going through trunks and boxes Padmé had appeared, smiling radiantly and carrying a box which contained a wedding dress that had once belonged to her grandmother.

An hour was spent obtaining an official license of marriage, and a few seconds spent explaining to the clerk, with a little help from the Force, that Anakin was not a Jedi, Padmé was certainly not a famous Senator, and all records of the transaction would be given to them.

Padmé had assured him that no such measures would be necessary with this holy man. Even if he hadn't been a trusted family friend, he had taken vows of secrecy. Anakin and the priest had summed one another up and decided to err to the side of trust. Neither had so far mentioned anything about the Jedi, although Anakin had little doubt that the holy man knew that he was one and that the ceremony he was to perform would violate their Code.

Didn't he?

Anakin was startled from his reverie when Artoo let out a short flurry of impatient beeps. The padawan's prosthetic hand flexed reflexively as his eyes strayed once again to the door Padmé had entered what seemed like hours ago.

"I don't think it'll be much longer, Artoo," he answered, although he, too, was wondering how long it could possibly take to put on a dress.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the dignified old holy man chuckling to himself. He turned to him curiously.

"Why did you agree to help us?" he asked.

The old man smiled kindly. For a moment, Anakin thought, he looked not too unlike Qui-Gon Jinn. "I am not bound by your Code," he said. "The gods I serve believe in love. I've known her family," he nodded toward the door, "for a long time. She loves you. You love her."

And that was all that needed to be said.

* * *

Padmé Naberrie Amidala stared at her reflection in the mirror before her. Threepio was hovering somewhere in the background babbling about something, but she paid him little mind. She was wearing the wedding dress which had belonged to her grandmother, Winama Naberrie, and which now belonged to her. The dress was old but beautiful, following a traditional Naboo design, and it fitted her almost perfectly. She had taken great care in putting it on, with Threepio's help. Now she was seeing, for the first time, the full effect of the complete ensemble.

All at once the solemnity of the occasion hit her. She was in her wedding dress. She was about to be married. And her family wasn't there; they didn't even know.

She and Anakin had agreed it would be simpler that way, although he had at first insisted that he couldn't ask her not to have them come. Both of them knew it was for the best, though—no attention, less risk of anyone finding out. They would have to get used to secrets now, although she was still not sure if this was one they could keep. The droids would be their witnesses, and they would have each other. That was enough.

And yet… and yet she missed them. She loved her family dearly, and they loved her, and they would want to be here—would, in fact, probably be very upset when they found she'd done this without them. Before today, whenever she'd imagined her wedding, she'd always seen her family there. Of course, none of this was the way little girls typically imagined their weddings. The laws that they were breaking leant an air of darkness and gravity to a day which would otherwise have been one of purity and celebration. Had the Naberries been there, they probably would currently have been trying to talk her out of going through with it.

She wouldn't have listened. She was nervous—her hands, she noted, were cold and trembling, and her reflection was pale—but she had no doubt that in a few moments she would step out onto the balcony and take Anakin Skywalker's hand. She still didn't know if doing so would be right or wrong. By the standards of most of the galaxy, of course, what they were doing today was strictly forbidden. But she was beginning to think that what the galaxy thought was wrong couldn't always be wrong, or was right in this case, or maybe right and wrong were so muddled and confused that they didn't even exist anymore. Maybe the only thing that was really clear to her was that she loved Anakin, and all that mattered was that she wanted to be his wife.

She sent Threepio out ahead of her, and took a moment to examine herself once more in the mirror, tuck a loose strand of hair into place, and take a deep breath.

When she stepped out onto the balcony, that breath came out in a gasp of awe. The sun was just beginning to sink toward the horizon. Anakin was standing near the railing, waiting for her, bathed in golden light. And _this_ was the way a little girl could imagine her wedding. It was beautiful.

* * *

She was beautiful. The moment she stepped onto the balcony, Anakin dissolved into unabashed wonder. Floating as she moved from the shadows into the light, she was luminous. He remembered as a boy thinking she might be one of the legendary Angels—_good and kind, and so beautiful they make even the most hardened space pirates cry_. Her eyes briefly met his, and then she cast them down again. _You must be one. Maybe you just don't know it_. This was worth the risk they were taking. She was worth giving up the Jedi Order for. He inhaled suddenly, realizing that he had forgotten to breathe.

* * *

She approached Anakin and the holy man timidly, suddenly shy. Her eyes were fixed on her feet as, step by step, they carried her forward to the balcony rail. Time seemed to have slowed, prolonging the seconds it took her to bridge the small space into an eternity.

When she at last reached her place, she raised her eyes to meet Anakin's. She could see that he thought she was beautiful, but he wasn't smiling, and nor was she. They were each meditating on what had brought them so far, to this point in time. They were utterly serious, wrapped in the atmosphere of sacred mystery that now permeated this place.

The holy man raised his hands to the heavens and began to speak in the ancient language of the Naboo, translating for Anakin's benefit.

"_Almathienn sé den anrelanten den nisemaaé._ Marriage is the reunion of the separated." His gaze fell on Padmé, and then Anakin, before continuing. "_Anolenni, ta senyd en. Ta sen sha lin a den unab, na yal tiratué, dei habir den sila, ta sen rasanyd unien d'mirtué é amia bai den unien sé birajyd coratué. _Originally, you were one. You are now two in the world, but through your eyes, from across the stars, you have recognized your other self, and love for the other has conquered your heart."

Padmé bowed her head, letting the words wash over her, thinking that she had never really understood them before this day.

* * *

"_Disu ta aiomen ular a den lansu amiaé, en vali do fona den cor a den mirié, tithypamié sirilas sen-yal-amiaé, jomiri ené é keiri ené, lua é lei bydajinen._ Today you celebrate life in the experience of love as a force which opens the heart to the sad, bittersweet melody of being through love, one's anguish and one's joy, the light and dark interacting."

Light and dark… they were describing the way of the Force, Anakin thought, though maybe the people who had crafted these vows hadn't known it. They were talking about a union which brought balance to the Force. How could such a thing be seen by the Jedi as wrong? To celebrate life…

He wished, so much, that his mother could have been there.

The holy man was now saying that marriage was a spiritual experience of love confirmed through sacred physical union. It was a sacrifice of the visible self for the unity which could not be seen. "You live in loyalty; through whatever trials or suffering, you remain true."

The Jedi, too, demanded loyalty. In pledging his loyalty to Padmé, Anakin was breaking that pledge to the Jedi Knights. The thought gave his conscience a momentary twinge. Obi-Wan would be so disappointed, if he knew. He put such effort into training his padawan in the best way he knew how, and now Anakin was failing him. He would make up for it in other ways, he thought. He would become the greatest Jedi the Order had ever known. And he would never fail Padmé as he was failing the Jedi, not ever. Nor could he imagine her ever failing him.

* * *

"_A almathienn, jeida dasu tu ama é jeida dasu tu baden."_

_In marriage, every day you love, and every day you forgive_, Padmé translated mentally as the priest spoke. And she would, always. She would always be holding that little boy, that handsome Jedi warrior, and loving him, and forgiving him. They balanced that way. She was not afraid of "always" as she had once been. Standing here with Anakin, "always" did not seem like long at all.

"You have given yourself to something greater than yourself."

The will of the Force again. That didn't frighten her either, now. She was almost starting to believe it, though why the Force should take an interest in her she had no idea. Where was it leading them—to peace? Or… _It would destroy us_, she'd said. But surely there she was still able to decide—if she loved him enough, forgave him enough, fought hard enough… maybe it would be all right.

* * *

"Anakin, the gods free you from your duties as a son. You may take Padmé's hand as a symbol of the unity which you share."

The holy man had taught him this part, while Padmé was getting ready. He mentally groped for the words, then found them, desperately hoping he was saying them right.

"I will accept your hand so that you will grow old as my wife. The gods have given me to you as your husband. I take you in health or sickness, in wealth or poverty, in good times and in bad. But I take you as my center, and you are my bliss, not the wealth you might bring me, not the social prestige, but you."

* * *

The surreal sound of Anakin's voice reciting the Naboo vows of marriage almost brought tears to Padmé's eyes. _Oh, Force, what are we doing?_

"Padmé the gods free you from your duties as a daughter. You may take Anakin's hand as a symbol of the unity which you share."

And there was the answer—merely formalizing a connection which was already there, had always been there. What they were doing now was an act of hope; hope that this war wouldn't last forever, that they would be reunited, that there would be light at the end of this darkness. She had hope for Anakin, and for now, hope was all she needed.

She did not hesitate. Her voice was soft, but sure. "I will accept your hand so that you will grow old as my husband. The gods have given me to you as your wife." She looked up at him, hoping that he could see all that she was feeling at that instant, how much she meant what she was saying. "But I take you as my center, and you are my bliss, not the wealth that you might bring me, not the social prestige, but you."

* * *

As nervous as they'd been about meeting each other's gazes before, they could not take their eyes off of one another now. Through the Force, Anakin could feel Padmé's emotions matching his own. It was almost as if their presences in the Force were merging and forming one, as together they listened to the priest's words.

"_Lo su sé, é lo si sé, é lo dy sen. U Mayavala, lachsonaa tumar a'tué vali é mebaa tumar cai talé._ Here he is, and here she is, and here they are. O gods, illuminate us with your might and bring us good fortune. _Mebaa samatyu é anlinsi a di par benari, é mellaa dyr a nitisen erath é akau_. Bring balance to this new family and help them to resist fear and evil."

_New family_. He had a family now, one of his own, for the first time since leaving his mother a decade ago. And no one, not even the Jedi, would take this away from him.

"Anakin and Padmé, your life is now here, where your love is. You are no longer one alone. You and the other are now one, as you were one to begin with."

They had done it. No matter what happened now, Padmé thought, she would have had this at least. They had said their vows. No one could take that away from her, from them.

"Though you may be separated by worlds, across the stars you are joined forever by a bond which cannot be broken by any evil, not even death."

_No evil, not even death… forever._ The words rang in Anakin's head and in his heart. They had forever, an eternity laid out before them filled with endless possibilities. He would not lose her, not ever.

"May you know compassion and kindness, may your children be heroes, may you have the blessing of the gods and live in peace."

_May the Force be with us_, Padmé prayed. _Let us live in peace._

"May the gods protect you and your children from suffering and fear. May they lead you from here, hand in hand, into your new home."

_May the Force protect us_, Anakin thought. _Let us build a home that, out of all the stars and worlds of the galaxy, can be ours._

"_Ka sé laninsenyd sama a di maivalé almathienn sé en é ni-ben sé nisamenyd."_

Padmé was looking at the holy man as he spoke those final words. He was smiling at the two of them.

"What is joined together in this sacred marriage is one and cannot be parted."

Anakin looked from the holy man back to Padmé, just as she turned to face him. Slowly, he reached out his left hand to take her right-- small, delicate, and soft-- and hold it.

Slowly, Padmé reached out her hand and placed it in Anakin's, finalizing their union with one another, their acceptance of each other, right or wrong, always. There was nothing more they could do. Padmé Naberrie Amidala watched their hands clasp as she willingly became Padmé Skywalker. All the fear, all the uncertainty she had known was in the past. She would never know that doubt again. Her eyes locked again with Anakin's; his face was all she could see. No more looking back. This was her life now, from this day on. Forever.

Anakin's eyes were drinking in every detail of Padmé's face in that moment. Their hands still held each other tightly, and the feeling that passed between them seemed to say, _It is done._ The woman he had first known as a girl called Padmé Naberrie was at last his, and he had never been more certain that it was right.

Suddenly she was compelled to reach out her left hand and wrap it around his cold, mechanical one. _Yes_, she thought. _Even that. I accept that, too._

He felt her hand take hold of his metal prosthetic, and the simple gesture moved him more than words could express. She'd said she loved all of him. For the first time, now, he knew that it was true.

Their lips met, and she lost herself in a kiss like none she had ever known, their first as husband and wife. The thought, when it came, was gloriously clear: _This is right. Of course, this is right_.

They kissed so passionately, as though all of their emotions yearned to be expressed that way. It felt to Anakin like they were trying to melt into each other and become one person.

For an instant as they broke apart, Padmé was dizzy, not sure where she was standing or from whose perspective she was seeing. She felt as though somewhere in that kiss they had blurred together and a part of her had stayed with Anakin, and that part of him was now inside her. She felt that she could see him more completely, knew him more intimately, that in a fundamental way they had become one person. Their hearts beat together.

Through the spectrum of the Force, Anakin could see his and Padmé's Force signatures become one blazing beacon of light. The light did not diminish when, to the sound of the droids cheering, they parted. It surrounded them and transcended them. He sensed that, almost imperceptibly, each presence in the Force had been forever altered. He saw the look of wonder on Padmé's face and smiled at her, knowing that she sensed it, too.

Anakin and Padmé Skywalker stood on the balcony of Varykino, their hands, sprits, and lives now and forever joined. As one they turned, their shadows stretching out and merging behind them, and together they faced the rapidly approaching future and the slowly setting sun.

_**The End**_


End file.
